


Bad Ideas

by dizzyingly_dreamy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Don't Like Don't Read, Feels, Fluff, I love this ship, M/M, Peter Parker is 19, Smut, Suicide Attempt (sort of), Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is 44, sue me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:00:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24281719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzyingly_dreamy/pseuds/dizzyingly_dreamy
Summary: Pepper left after Tony found out about her year long affair with another man. He'd been so out of the picture that he hadn't even noticed the love of his life drifting away. But she was happier without him, and he was...he was fine.He wasn't happy. Not completely. Not fully. Not like how he used to be. If he could even call that happiness. The team could tell that something was off, but he never let enough show to make them worry.He decided to host a three day event, hoping to find an intern who he could talk to, and who would understand the basic concepts Tony was trying to talk about. Two days of nothing. People who came were just trying to get close to Tony Stark, and Tony hated it.The third day however, a blonde with blue eyes and the prettiest face Tony had seen on a man since his MIT days makes something in Tony's chest churn in a way it hasn't since Pepper left, six months previous. But he gave up on love. He gave up on settling down and being in love and marriage and everything that went with it.But that Peter Parker's smile is really something, and the feeling it gives is addicting, and Tony just can't help himself.
Relationships: Loki/Thor (mentioned), Pepper Potts/Tony Stark (implied), Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 7
Kudos: 132





	Bad Ideas

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys like!!
> 
> Enjoy! <3

Hosting these events, trying to find an intern who was able to actually understand Tony’s level of brilliance, just exhausted him. Sure, he enjoyed having conversations with young people who thought they were intelligent enough, because it made him feel all the more smarter. But after an hour or two, he just felt frustrated. He wasn’t able to discuss things he actually wanted to discuss, and he was getting sick of it. Three of these nights and not one single person had come forward as good enough.

Maybe it was cruel to pick the most intelligent. After all, the intern program was meant to teach and let these people learn. Yet, Tony didn’t want to teach. He wanted to pose a problem to them and have them figure it out on their own. He’d never really liked children who needed other people. 

So, as he sat at the bar, swirling his bourbon, eyeing everyone who’d attended, he wished that this was easier. He wished he had someone to talk to who was at least as smart as he was. Someone who would get it. 

Pepper hadn’t been as smart as he’d been, but she’d been engaging and intelligent enough that Tony wasn’t frustrated. But then he’d gone and screwed it up somehow because he hadn’t even noticed her cheating on him the previous year of their relationship. She left him immediately after he discovered it. Last he heard, she was off living in Europe with her new boyfriend. 

That signaled the end of love for Tony. He kept everyone at an arm’s distance, never letting anyone see him. They all just saw who he wanted them to see, and he was fine with it. Sure, he hadn’t gotten laid since he and Pepper ended it, which was a good six months ago, but he found that he was fine just jerking off occasionally. 

The team knew he was different after Pepper left him, but he didn’t show it enough to really make them concerned. And he was fine. He was happy. Ish. He didn’t need anyone and he made himself content by blasting AC/DC and Nirvana at full volume in his lab. 

He brought the glass of bourbon to his lips. He limited himself when he drank. He didn’t need to be an alcoholic again. He watched as a group of men fresh out of college, probably at least 20 years younger than him, stumbled closer to the bar. 

One in particular caught his eye. Blonde curls that were loose and fell into his crystal blue eyes. Full lips that weren’t overly feminine. Tony thought he was the most attractive guy he’d seen in the last three nights. He was definitely a pretty boy, but masculine and sexy enough that it wasn’t overwhelming or his only feature. He was wearing black jeans that hugged his ass perfectly, and a dress shirt with the top couple buttons left open, tucked into the jeans. He was powerfully built, muscled and toned perfectly. His skin was golden and tanned, and Tony wondered absently if his skin was like that even in the winter. 

Apart from his looks, he seemed not to realize how attractive he really was. He looked shy and laughed softly at another guy’s joke, reaching behind him to rub the back of his neck and twist one of his curls around his finger. He had good teeth too, not that Tony was paying attention or anything. 

After a few moments of saving every detail of this guy’s appearance to memory, he turned away and drank more of his bourbon. He was past one night stands, and besides, he didn’t really want to touch that kid. He’d fuck up some part of him, he could feel it. 

Minutes passed. People came and sat beside Tony, hoping to engage in conversation. Tony humoured them for a little while, then they left. He gestured to the bartender to get him another bourbon when someone sat beside him again, but this time the energy was completely different.

“Just a ginger ale please.” The voice was smooth and sweet, like melted milk chocolate, and Tony let himself enjoy the sound before turning to see who the voice belonged to. 

Well well well. It was Pretty boy. He turned to look at Tony, then went red. 

“Mr Stark! Wow. Um. I can move. I didn’t mean to sit right here. I’m sorry.” he stammered, and he made to get up, but Tony touched his arm gently, telling him to stay. He gave Tony a hesitant look and sat back down. 

“You don’t drink?” Tony asked, sipping his own drink. Pretty boy shook his head and smiled at the bartender, murmuring his thanks as he grasped the tall glass with one hand, drinking some of it. 

“My name is Peter Parker, by the way.” Peter said quietly, and Tony was pleased with himself for realizing that Peter indeed was shy. Tony decided to give him a rare smile, which made his face light up.  
“You know who I am. It’s impossible to introduce myself to anyone anymore.” Tony replied coolly, looking at the many bottles of liquor stacked along the back wall of the bar. He owned this entire venue. He could go back there himself and make himself a drink and flirt with ladies and men who sat at the bar. Peter gave a soft laugh and something in Tony’s chest throbbed.

Not a good sign. 

“Well, you’re really intelligent. You’ve really made it. I would trade the ability to introduce myself for all this.” Peter replied, drinking more of his ginger ale. “To be honest, I only came here because I wasn’t doing anything. I have the night off.” he added, and Tony wondered what card to play. Be offended that his event was a one-off? Be interested in what Peter did? He decided he liked this kid, and that talking to him a bit longer wouldn’t be an issue. 

“What do you do?” he asked. “You seem a bit young to have a career already.” It was true. He seemed younger and yet more mature than most in the entire building. Peter flushed pink, and Tony absolutely adored how easily he blushed. 

“I am young. I’m only 19. Everyone says that about me.” he admitted, and Tony’s gut churned. Ok-a-y. This kid was a kid, and he was 25 years younger than Tony. Tread carefully. “I finished University early though, and graduated a few years ahead. I’m a part time scientist. I help out at local community colleges and universities. I get paid for it, but I just like helping people.” Peter explained, and Tony’s interest peaked. Finishing University early was very rare. Graduating highschool a few years ahead was even more rare. The two combined?

“When did you graduate highschool?” Tony asked, every ounce of his interest hidden. Like hell he needed to get to this kid’s head. Peter shrugged and looked into his ginger ale. He really was shy. 

“I think when I was 14. My aunt sent me off to MIT right after though, so I was in University when I was 15.” he confessed. His cheeks were a beautiful shade of pink. Tony had been his age when he went to MIT. Maybe he’d found his intern. “I didn’t really need the courses. I figured that out quickly. I finished in about two years.” he added, and Tony raised his eyebrow. Peter went even redder. 

“You’re smarter than everyone in this room.” Tony observed, and Peter gave a squeak of shock. It was adorable. 

“Not smarter than you! I agree with the rest though…” he trailed off and looked around at the rest of the people. “It’s incredibly frustrating to be in a room full of people and you can’t talk normally to even one of them.” he added a little sourly, and Tony chuckled. The sound seemed to come as a shock to Peter, because he snapped his gaze back to Tony, startled to find Tony laughing softly, smiling. 

“I like you kid.” he declared. Peter smiled shyly, his cheeks still pink. “I’d like you to be my intern. No one else in here is anywhere near as intelligent as you, and I don’t like anyone nearly as much as I like you.” Tony added, and Peter gaped at him. Tony smirked. 

Possibly the worst idea he’d had in the last six months. Maybe the best one. He could use the new company. Banner wasn’t exactly eager to talk about science and math every waking moment, and no one else had any idea what he was talking about except for Strange, but his knowledge was limited to doctor stuff. 

“Mr Stark--you don’t know that I’m intelligent!” Peter gasped. “I wouldn’t feel good about being your intern unless you really knew I was who you wanted.” Tony shrugged. The kid wasn’t selfish. Something Tony admired in everyone except in himself. He was only selfless when it came to saving the world and the ones he valued. Other than that, he was a selfish bastard. 

“Then come to my lab tomorrow. Show me what you can do. If I still think you’re the one I’d like to be my intern, will you take the position?” Tony offered, and Peter opened his mouth to answer when there was a crash from above them in the glass roof. 

The room went silent for a split second, and Tony and Peter walked out to look up curiously. 

Then the roof caved in. Peter disappeared. Tony pulled back his sleeve to tap his watch to call his suit. His wrist was bare. He froze. He’d never forgotten to wear his watch but...tonight he had? People screamed as a massive metal octopus looking thing dropped to the ground. 

A young lady wearing a slim black dress shrieked as one of the metal tentacles aimed for her head. A flash of red and blue, and the tentacle was webbed to itself, the girl in Spider-man’s arms. Tony cocked his eyebrow.  
He’d only ever seen videos on YouTube that Natasha and Steve had shown him, urging him to try and find Spider-man to recruit him. Tony had completely intended to follow through, but then Pepper had left him and his world sort of broke a little bit. 

“Go, run, go for the exit. I’ll make sure it won’t hurt you.” Spider-man urged the girl soothingly. She nodded, tearful, and bolted for the door. There weren’t many people left; everyone had run the first chance they’d gotten. Tony edged around the mechanical being, trying not to be obvious as Spidey dropped down on top of it and started trying to pull its metal armour off.

He was close to the door. If he could just get a little further, but the way the entire venue was set up, he’d have to become obvious in order to escape. 

This was the last and only time he forgot his damned watch. If Spidey hadn’t been here...but then he would’ve been at the event. The second of hesitation while Tony was thinking about who Spider-man was proved to be a fatal mistake. The mechanical octopus threw one of its razor sharp tentacles at Tony, whose eyes widened.

“No!” 

Before Tony could really register what had happened, Spider-man had grabbed him around the middle and had pulled them up and out of harm’s way. They were on the roof that the machine had dropped through, but far away from the part that was compromised. Tony looked up at Spider-man and realized that he was clutching his right side that was bleeding. 

Way to go Tony. 

“Stay here.” He ordered Tony, voice weak and painfully familiar. Tony was about to ask if he was who he thought he was, but Spider-Man dropped down, back into the pit of hell. He quickly got to his feet and scrambled to the edge of the hole in the glass, his stomach lurching when his weight made the glass crack. 

(Peter?) was fighting the mechanical octopus, still bleeding, but evidently determined to defeat the machine. Then, with horror, Tony watched a tentacle impale his gut, lifting him and throwing him against the wall. He quickly shoved his hand into his pocket, searching for his cell. 

Right. He didn’t have one. He’d smashed it a few nights ago. Though, why he wasn’t wearing his earpiece and his watch was a mystery. He rarely forgot to wear those. 

What stunned Tony was the fact that Peter just got up after being tossed around like a ragdoll, a reasonably sized hole in his chest. He stood, swayed slightly, and held up a bit of metal. The Octopus stopped moving and then collapsed. Peter aimed a web at the roof and pulled himself up, falling onto the glass a few meters away from the hole. Tony rushed to his side. 

“Ah. You’re okay.” Peter mumbled. He reached up and yanked off his mask, blood slipping from between his lips. He gave a cough and sat up, groaning. His blue eyes were glossy, evidently tearful from the pain of his injuries. “Well, now you know who I am. Funny. I imagined you finding out differently.” Peter laughed, and Tony just paled. 

“You have a hole in your stomach.” He pointed out. Peter looked down at his stomach and sighed, but that turned into a cough, which turned into blood being spat on the roof beside them. “Jesus kid. You’re an idiot.” Tony groaned, running his fingers through his hair, his eyes falling closed. Peter gave a gentle, cautious laugh. 

“Well, I’m an idiot who saved your life.” he whispered, slowly laying back down. “I’ll be fine. I just need to rest for a few hours.” Tony gave a short laugh that showed no amusement. Peter raised his eyebrows, eyes closed. “You didn’t call your suit.” he observed and Tony scoffed. 

“Yeah, I know. It’s because I forgot my fucking watch and I smashed my goddamn phone a few days ago.” he growled, gripping his own hair. He looked out at the city. He really hadn’t expected this to be the turnout of the third night of trying to find an intern. Peter snorted, raising a shaking hand and pushing his curls from his face, streaking them with his blood. Come to think of it, Peter’s entire body seemed soaked with blood that was steadily pooling from his injury. 

“Tony Stark, forgetting to wear something that would save his life. Huh. Wonder how the press will take it.” Peter teased and Tony snorted.

“Maybe they’ll say I have dementia. Old age and all.” he joked, and Peter sniggered, shaking his head weakly. He was still bleeding, but Tony could hear sirens in the distance. Good. he thought. I’ll bring him to the tower...Strange can take a look at him.

“Age is just a number Mr Stark. You’re like wine.” Peter giggled. He seemed drunk off the adrenaline and how cheesy he sounded. The words twisted Tony’s heart in a way that he hadn’t felt for months, and he swallowed thickly. “You know, if I actually die tonight, I’ll be glad it was saving you. Cause that’s a way to go out. Not everyone saves Tony Stark’s life.” Peter murmured, and Tony realized with a jolt of concern that Peter was fading. The sirens were very close now, and Peter’s identity needed to be protected.

“You aren’t going to die. I’m gonna take you to the Avengers Tower and Strange is gonna patch you all up.” Tony hissed, looking feebly at Peter’s wound. It had started to seal itself up, but a hole was still left, gushing blood much more slowly but steadily. Peter looked at him with a small smile playing his perfect lips stained with blood. “Then you’ll come to my lab and you’ll show me how smart you are and you’ll be my intern.” Tony continued, not realizing he was rambling, or that he was coming off as more desperate than he intended. 

It was only fair. No one had really made Tony feel like this since Pepper, even if it had only been barely a half hour’s worth of conversation. 

“Mm. Doctor Strange’ll patch me up huh?” Peter said, still smiling. “And I’ll get to show you how smart I am?” he grinned, humming happily. Tony hated himself. He was giving the kid hope of happiness, of a friendship that Tony would inevitably fuck up. This was a bad idea. All of it was a bad idea.

He’d given up love. He’d given up trying to get married. Trying to settle down with someone he couldn’t live without. He’d thought that he couldn’t live without Pepper, but even after she left, he was still alive. He was still living. He hadn’t even contemplated suicide. Turns out that it was a lie when he murmured that to her in the afterglow of sex. He hadn’t even known it was a lie.

But here he was. Desperate to keep this stranger alive because of the way he spoke and the way Tony’s stomach churned at his laughter.

What a complete fool he was. 

“Mr Stark…” Peter whispered, and Tony snapped his gaze to him, having not realized he’d been staring out into space. Peter weakly pulled on his mask and Tony helped him. “I can hear that brilliant mind of yours. Stop blaming yourself. It doesn’t do any good. Besides, you can make it up to me. You already have, actually.” Peter gave a sigh, and Tony was dumbstruck. 

Either the kid had researched him to the point of figuring out his complete personality, flaws and all, or he was insanely observant. Both were equally terrifying to Tony, someone who prided himself on being aloof and blank. Peter moved his head so he was looking at Tony.

“I promise you won’t die.” Tony breathed, and Peter hummed softly. 

“I believe you.” 

_

“Tony, I told you, he’s fine. He’s asleep. The meds will wear off in a few hours and he’ll wake up.” Strange’s voice was distant as Tony had his eyes glued on Peter, who was lying, wrapped in bandages, unconscious. His arms were crossed as he leaned against the door frame, jaw clenched, brow furrowed. 

“I don’t want to leave in case something goes wrong.” he repeated, and Strange gave a sigh. 

“How long have you known this kid anyways?” he questioned softly. Tony bit his tongue, unclenching his jaw slightly. 

“Less than an hour.” he admitted. “He was at the event. Said he was only there because he had nothing else to do. He wasn’t like the rest of them.” Strange didn’t speak for a moment, or breathe. Tony turned to look at him. The look in his eyes was unmistakable and Tony’s eyes narrowed. “No. It’s not that. I gave up on that. You know that.” he growled. Strange held up his hands in surrender. 

“I believe you.” the words hit Tony harder than they would have if Peter hadn’t spoken them on his deathbed, hours previously. “You just...you haven’t acted like this since Pepper.” he added, and Tony gripped his forearms, clenching his jaw and looking away from Strange, back to Peter. 

He knew that. He knew that he was lying when he said that it wasn’t love. He didn’t know if it was, but he didn’t know if it wasn’t. He was fond of Peter, and he’d saved Tony’s life. That called for some sort of gratitude. Becoming Tony’s intern and an Avenger was just the beginning. 

Tony didn’t trust the world to treat Peter Parker right, and that included himself, but as long as he kept himself at a distance, he could protect Peter. 

“I checked up on his records. Well, I got Friday to.” Strange continued, taking Tony’s silence as enough of an answer. “He’s extremely intelligent. Graduated MIT at 17. He’s had a rough upbringing. Bitten by a radioactive spider at 14, loses his parents to a plane crash at 4, loses his uncle just after being bitten, and he lost his aunt a year ago. He’s got no money to his name, in fact, I don’t even think he has a place to live. He works as a part time scientist at community Colleges and Universities, but that only covers food. With his body, he has to eat a lot.” Strange paused. Tony was cringing. 

The world had been cruel to Peter Parker. 

“We’re taking him in, right? I didn’t think that was much of a question but--” Strange began quickly, and Tony cut him off.

“Of course we are. He’s got the intelligence to be my intern, which will cover him being at the Tower so often. He can live here too.” he bit, and Strange was silent. “Even if I like him, I know to stay away. He’s 19. I can’t do that, even if everything would work out.” Tony added in a much quieter tone. 

“I’m not saying you have to stay away. I’m just saying be careful. I don’t think he’s the same as everyone else.” Strange mumbled. Tony didn’t say anything. “I’m gonna go to bed. It’s late. You should sleep too.” Strange gave Tony’s shoulder a pat and walked away, down the hall and to the elevator. 

Tony stood still for another hour, wondering what the fuck he was getting himself into. Of all the bad ideas he’d ever had, this was one that would be the most consequential. 

He stepped into the room, one of many in the recovery wing, and sat down on the edge of the bed, at Peter’s feet. He was going to be fine, and it was thanks to the kid’s powers. He sighed and buried his face in his hands. Bad Tony. Bad Tony who was touch starved and sick of being alone. Bad Tony who is only human and wishes he was less so that he wouldn’t be struggling with potentially falling for a 19 year old.

“Mr Stark?” Peter’s voice was hoarse and raw, and the sound made Tony cringe even harder. He wanted to spare this kid all the pain and suffering the world was throwing at him. Tony looked at him, letting his hands fall down to his thighs.

He’d changed out of his suit, but did so while watching Strange patch Peter up. He now wore a pair of grey sweats and a thin white cotton tank top that displayed his arc reactor more than he’d like, but the top was comfortable. 

“Hey kid. Told you I wouldn’t let you die.” Tony replied softly, giving him a soft smile that didn’t reach his eyes. No. He hated himself too much at the moment to really smile for Peter. Peter’s face fell into a warm smile and he licked his lips.

“Well thank you.” he whispered, and he blinked around the room. “Where am I? Avengers Tower?” he asked quickly and Tony gave a soft laugh.

“I did say I’d bring you here. I even woke up Strange to work on you.” he admitted and Peter flushed pink again. Tony had almost forgotten how adorable he was. 

“You really didn’t have to. But thank you.” he blurted, not looking at Tony. Tony wondered why he wasn’t but the only answer was one he refused to acknowledge. Peter sat up slowly, sighing, and then swung his legs over the side of the hospital bed, pulling the tubes out of his skin. “I should go. I don’t want to keep you up any longer.” he informed quickly, and he made to stand, but froze. Tony gave a snort.

“You’ll probably want clothes. Or would you rather streak across the city?” he teased despite trying to keep his distance. It was practically impossible with the way Peter’s eyes pulled him in. It was like he had his own gravitational pull. Peter glared at him, cheeks very red, and sat back down, keeping the blanket over his lap. Tony walked out of the room and grabbed some clothes that he’d picked out and held them out to Peter.

“B-but these aren’t mine.” Peter stammered. Tony shrugged.

“I know. They’re mine. Just until we can buy you some new stuff.” He said, waving his hand dismissively. Peter gave another squeak and Tony resisted the urge to tease him about the adorable sound. 

“I can’t wear your clothing!” Peter cried, and Tony looked at him, eyebrows raised. “I can just wear my suit instead--” he began, and Tony waved his hand dismissively again. 

“Nonsense. Besides, your suit is destroyed. It wasn’t very strong to begin with. I assume you made it on your own?” he inquired and Peter nodded slowly. 

“I never have access to proper resources. That was the first time I actually managed to make something that worked.” he muttered, and Tony noted the sound of regret. Hm. 

“Well, when you’re feeling up to it, and by that I mean once you’ve rested, you can come up to my lab and we can work on a new one.” Tony offered sympathetically. He sounded like a worried parent. Part of him approved, part of him still hated himself. Peter perked up at that and nodded. “Ok-ay, now, let’s take you up to your room now. I won’t have you sleep here for longer than you had to.” Tony gestured to the clothes in Peter’s grasp. “Change. I’ll be outside. Come out when you’re done.” he walked out without saying another thing to Peter, knowing somehow in the pit of his stomach, that the spider would just protest. 

_

Peter sat, dumbstruck and very very flattered. Not only had he saved Tony Stark’s life and landed himself a well paying internship, he’d also seemed to land himself a place to live. He looked down at Mr Stark’s clothing in his lap and rubbed his thumb over the fabric. It was much more high quality than he would ever be able to afford, and he felt his cheeks heat up. He quickly got dressed, eyeing the door where Mr Stark had disappeared, and once he was dressed, he carefully walked out of the room.

Mr Stark was leaning against the wall, his eyes closed, one hand in his hair like how he’d been on the roof of the venue as Peter had laid, bleeding to death. He paused, letting his eyes wash over Mr Stark. 

He was insanely attractive, Peter already knew that, but he was so much more in person. His hair was spiked and messy in just the right way that if someone was to play with the strands, it wouldn’t affect it. His lips were pursed, but they were light pink and softer looking than Peter had expected. They were full, not as full as Peter’s, but still nice. His frame was beyond amazing, his olive skin displayed perfectly over his muscles that were displayed even better through that thin tank top that did sinful things to Peter. Not to mention his perfectly sculpted ass; was there anything about Tony Stark that wasn’t perfect?

He looked up, opening his chocolate coloured eyes that had specks of gold and blue that only Peter could see, and seemed to tense. Peter didn’t know why. He hated the idea that he stressed Mr Stark out, but he didn’t know how to fix it. He didn’t even really know Mr Stark at all, but it felt like they’d known each other for years. Perhaps that was only Peter.

“By you saying that I have a room...that leads me to believe that you intend to let me live here.” Peter asked slowly, and Mr Stark nodded. Peter opened his mouth to protest, but Mr Stark held up one hand to silence him. He closed his mouth and Mr Stark stepped forwards.

“Kid, you live on the streets. Just accept this okay? You saved my life. Besides, I can’t have an Avenger sleeping on the streets when there’s more than enough room here.” he said dismissively and Peter flushed red, eyes wide, mouth gaping. 

He was...going to be an Avenger? He was already one? Mr Stark smiled softly, and this time it reached his eyes. 

“Come on. You look exhausted.” he gestured for Peter to follow him, and he quickly moved forwards, and they stepped into an elevator. It was Mr Stark who looked exhausted, if Peter was honest. 

“You look more tired than I do.” Peter mumbled more to himself, and Mr Stark hummed as he leaned against the side of the elevator, eyes closed, arms crossed. So. This was the great Tony Stark. He was everything the world made him up to be, and more, but he was exhausted and tense. 

Peter had lied when he’d told Mr Stark that he’d only come because he had nothing to do. He’d gone because he didn’t have anything to do to keep him from going, yes, but he hadn’t wanted to go. He hadn’t wanted to be just another person trying so hard to appeal to Mr Stark. But, blunt curiosity just about got him killed, but it had landed him the internship and a place to live so...maybe going hadn’t been the worst thing. 

The elevator stopped moving with a soft ding and the doors opened. Mr Stark gave a sigh and stepped out of the elevator without a second thought, but why would he? He lived in this luxury and had lived in it for his entire life. Peter, however, only lived in something barely this when he was 4 before his parents died and all the money disappeared. He didn’t even remember it. 

But this...this was amazing. The left side of the room was completely glass, showing a spectacular view of New York, and the living room. The right side was a large kitchen with marble top counters and the newest appliances. Wait...even newer? Peter had never seen any of these on the market. He spotted the Stark Industries copyright on the side and felt himself becoming more and more impressed and more and more terrified. 

He couldn’t just live here. 

He managed to step out of the elevator, stumbling slightly, fumbling with his too big clothes. There was a freaking fountain along the wall right outside the elevator. He paused to take it all in, the kitchen, the living room, the glass wall, the fountain, and before he knew it, he was on the ground. 

“Woah, jesus fucking christ kid, what’s wrong?” Mr Stark cried, rushing back to help a dizzy Peter back onto his feet. Peter swallowed, realized there were tears in his eyes and wiped them away furiously, but it was to no avail. Mr Stark led him to a bar stool beside a marble ledge, that was a part of the kitchen. He sat and refused to look at Mr Stark, humiliated and flattered. “Peter, what’s up?” Mr Stark demanded in a much softer but firmer tone. Peter fidgeted with his hands.

“N-nothing I’m fine.” he lied quietly. This was too much. He had to have died on that roof. There was no way this was all actually happening. Mr Stark leaned down to Peter’s eye level, a hand on his shoulder. Peter gave a pathetic whimper and buried his face in his hands.

“Kid...fuck. Come on. What’s up. I don’t feel good about sending you off to your room if you’re in tears.” Mr Stark said, his voice strained slightly. Peter sniffed and wiped his eyes. 

“I can’t live here.” he muttered, throat thick. Mr Stark snorted. 

“Of course you can. Why can’t you?” he demanded and Peter gave another sniff. How absolutely humiliating. He didn’t say anything, and Mr Stark paused, standing straight up. “Is this about you being broke? Because believe me, I am more than happy to accomodate you. You’re one of us now, I can’t have you on the streets.” he explained, and Peter sighed. 

“It’s too much. It’s too nice. I’m dead.” he blurted and Mr Stark laughed. 

“Aw come on kid. You aren’t dead.” he teased, and Peter gave him a sharp tearful look that just made Stark’s smile grow. “I don’t want to beg. I never beg. Have you ever seen me beg? No. It’s because Starks don’t beg and I’m not eager to break the tradition but I will if you don’t accept this.” he said firmly, in his perfect voice that was like rich dark chocolate and his perfect nonchalant tone that Peter could tell was going to be his end. Stark dropped into the stool in front of him, sighing softly. 

“Why do you care so much about me? You’re supposed to be cold, or at least that's what you want the world to think. Why are you letting a complete stranger live in your home with you?” Peter mumbled, wiping the last of his embarrassing tears away. Stark went rigid and didn’t breathe for a few seconds. 

“It’s not really my home. I mean yes, I own the building, but the rest of the team lives here too. It’s not just me.” he said thickly. “And...I don’t know. I like you. I meant that. You don’t seem like the usual run-of-the-mill people pleaser like the rest of the world. Especially when it comes to me. I hate people pleasers.” he rambled. Peter liked it when he was rambling though he’d only heard it twice. He let a slow smile spread his lips. 

Tony Stark liked him. Him.  
“Peter I want you to live here. I can’t have this on my conscience too.” Stark finally said, tense and evidently uncomfortable with sharing how he felt. Peter looked up from his lap. Stark’s eyes were closed, and his jaw was clenched. Peter licked his lips. 

Stark was really a delicious looking man. But he was 44 years old. Peter was 19. These were not okay feelings to be having. 

“Okay. On one condition.” Peter’s voice was much stronger, now that he was done making a fool of himself in front of his idol. Stark’s eyes flew open, stunned but curious. “You can’t pull your emotionless bullshit on me. You can’t be the Tony Stark you show the rest of the world because you obviously have given me a taste of what you’re really like and…” he trailed off. 

I’m addicted to it? It would be unbearable for you to go all blank when I’ve tasted you this sweet? All of those options would reveal that Peter definitely was attracted to him and had a crush on him. He’d had a crush on Tony Stark since he was old enough to know what a crush was. 

God that was fucked up. 

“Not in front of anyone else.” Stark said through gritted teeth. “Just. You.” He didn’t like the idea of being vulnerable with Peter. Peter didn’t much care. 

He wanted Stark to break out of his shell. He wanted everyone to know that Stark wasn’t an asshole, but if it was just him at first? Well that was good too.

“Okay.” Peter breathed. Stark relaxed slightly, but not fully. Peter had yet to make Stark relax fully. “I’m sorry for passing out. I’ve just never been in a place like this.” Peter added, feeling the need to make sure Stark knew that he was embarrassed. Stark shrugged. 

“I just about passed out when I found out you were homeless.” he grinned, but again, the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Nonetheless Peter returned it fondly, knowing that the smile that reached Stark’s eyes was a rare moment. “Come on. I want to work in my lab. You need to sleep.” Stark stood, holding out his hand to Peter.

An unnecessary gesture, but one that made Peter flush pink because fuck he couldn’t control his damn blushing. He took it, however, and the calloused but smooth hand that held his as he stood made him weak. 

Yup. He was crushing. 

The hand slid from his and he followed Stark down the corridor and watched as he checked into rooms. 

“Sorry Cap. Getting newbie set up. Forgot this was your room.” Stark grinned evilly and Peter froze. Cap? A groan came from in the room and Stark chuckled as he closed the door. “Asleep for 70 years and still sleeps like a bear.” Stark mumbled, to himself or to Peter, Peter didn’t know. 

Another door. An apology to Natasha. Black Widow?

Third door. Strange. Doctor Strange. Peter was going to pass out. 

Brucie. Bruce Banner.

Thor. Loki. Same room?

“They’re together. They aren’t blood so it’s fine. Besides, Asgard doesn’t really care if they were blood so neither does Earth.” Stark explained in a hushed tone. Peter realized that he was doing this on purpose. Waking everyone. He was introducing Peter to all of them before he was really introduced. 

Clint. Hawkeye? 

Then, finally, an empty room. Stark held the door open. 

“Funny. It’s the last available one. Guess we were just waiting for you to come along.” Then he winked, and Peter pretended that it didn’t make him blush. Peter stepped into the room, murmured a goodnight to Stark, which Stark returned and the door closed. 

Peter dropped onto the way too big and luxurious bed and stared at his hands. He was exhausted. This was too much for him to handle in one day. He crawled under the covers, snuggled into the lush pillows, and was asleep before he realized he was even falling.

_

When Tony woke up, he laid there for a few minutes, wondering what the fuck had happened last night. He looked over at his bedside table, his bed painfully empty, and saw that it was 10 am on the dot. He’d only gone to bed at 5. Five hours of sleep wasn’t bad for him. He slowly sat up, rubbing his face, messing his hair.

God he could use a shower. He slid out of bed, wearing nothing but a pair of fitted boxer briefs that were black silk and worth more than most engagement rings and pulled them off. He had a bunch of these, all in dark colours. Red was his favourite, but his green and black ones were pretty nice. The blue ones were his least favourite because they reminded him of Steve.

Yes Steve was hot and sexy beyond belief and if he wasn’t Tony’s best friend, he’d work hard on bedding him, but they were close friends. He preferred not to think of Steve that way if he could help it. He walked into his private bathroom and sighed aloud, yawning. 

Coffee. He’d text Steve to bring him some while he showered. 

Except that he had no phone. Hm. He’d have to fix that today.

“Hey, J?” he called out, turning the taps to his spacious shower on so that hot water spurted out of the shower head. 

“Yes Sir?” Jarvis responded almost immediately, and Tony took a moment to appreciate how brilliant he was, making his life so much easier with AI. 

“Tell Steve to make me some coffee and bring it to my bathroom. I’ll leave the door unlocked.” he ordered, stepping into the shower and groaning softly at the hot water. “Sorry, ask him if he’d so kindly be willing to bring me coffee.” Tony called out again, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He’d made it so that Jarvis wouldn’t respond until he gave the correct order, unless it was an emergency. 

“Of course Sir.” Jarvis replied in his flat tone, but somehow managed to sound pleased with himself. Tony scoffed and squirted shampoo into his hand, lathering it into his hair. 

He used to do this with Pepper. She’d wash him and he’d wash her, on good days. 

Now he was alone and had to give himself all the affection that he’d lost. He pressed his back against the black marble wall, the surface cold as ice in comparison to the rest of his shower. He hissed at the contact but didn’t move. He looked down at his arc reactor and made a face of disdain.

He hated the arc reactor. If it wasn’t keeping him alive, and prolonging his life for longer than the average human being, he’d tear it out and smash it into a billion pieces. His finest piece of work yet other than his suits and all that it was was a reminder of the pain he’d caused. The lives he’d destroyed. 

The bathroom door opened. 

“Ahhhh you’re a life saver Capsicle.” Tony groaned, peering around the frosted glass door. Steve was standing, looking annoyed, probably at the nickname, holding a cup of steaming black coffee in Tony’s favourite mug. He gave Steve a smile and let it reach his eyes. Steve sighed and held out the mug. 

“Cut it out with that nickname.” he said, firmly but fondly. Tony sipped the coffee and gave a content gasp.

“Since you were so nice, I will for today.” he grinned at him before disappearing behind the glass door, placing the mug of coffee on a shelf out of the way of the water. “How’s the kid settling in?” he asked casually, and Steve snorted, and Tony watched his dark outline settle on the sink’s counter. 

“It came as a shock, to find someone else in the tower. You could have warned us instead of waking us up at 2 am.” Steve growled. Tony didn’t answer. He was busy massaging the conditioner into his scalp, making soft noises of pleasure at the sensation. “He’s adorable, though. Freaked out when Banner came into the room and impressed Bruce by asking him questions on his books. They’ve been deep in conversation for about an hour now. Natasha seems to like him. She hasn’t threatened his life yet. In fact, she’s quite affectionate towards him. Ruffles his hair like he’s a little puppy.” Steve paused. 

So. Good decision. Yay Tony. 

“He almost passed out when Thor and Loki came out of their rooms holding hands. Said something about being amazed to be in the presence of two gods. He also mentioned that he thought they were absolutely adorable, and then Loki said that he’d kill anyone if they so much as hurt him. So, Loki definitely likes him. Thor thought he was cute too, and agreed with Loki.” Steve continued, and Tony laughed.

“You mean to tell me, the emotionless Loki threatened to kill for him?” he repeated, and Steve laughed. 

“Yeah, it came as a shock to the rest of us too, but I didn’t say anything. Clint is still in bed, so I have yet to see his reaction. I think Nat is gonna ask him to spar with her, to see what he’s got.” Steve added, and Tony hummed, rinsing his hair and drinking coffee. “I’m gonna watch. I want to see what spider-abilities he’s got. Oh, and Strange immediately took a liking to him. Peter admires him as much as he admires Bruce and you, so it’s interesting to see.” Steve snorted. Tony paused.

Peter admired him. 

That shouldn’t have been so flattering but it was, and Tony slipped back into hating himself for developing feelings, however small, for a 19 year old. 

“He saved my life last night. He doesn’t have anywhere else to go and I figured we could use him on the team. We’ll have him trained up soon enough. He’s a fast learner.” Tony muttered, quiet enough that Steve might not have heard him. 

“He told us about that. Said you promised him he wouldn’t die.” Steve replied, and Tony’s heart gave a jolt. “That was an interesting promise Tones.” Tony gave a growl and poked his head out again. 

“It didn’t end up biting me in the ass now, did it?” he snapped. Steve gave him a look. “I know! I’m not gonna make any more stupid promises anymore.” he spat, falling back into his shower and drinking his coffee in gulps. If it was only alcohol. If he was still an alcoholic. 

“I’m gonna go and make sure Nat isn’t scaring him off.” Steve muttered, barely audible over the hot water. Tony didn’t say anything, pushing his face under the water so that his skin burned pleasantly. “Tony...be nice to Peter. I see the way he talks about you. I don’t want him to get hurt.” Steve said softly, and suddenly Tony wanted Steve gone. He wanted him so gone that it wasn’t even funny. 

“I thought you were leaving.” Tony spat, the hostility he felt rising its way into his voice. The bathroom door shut. Tony slumped down to the floor of the shower. 

He was going to fuck everything up and he couldn’t even stop himself. He couldn’t even say no to Peter’s crystal blue eyes that were so damned perfect. He was going to destroy Peter and he was going to watch himself do it, all the while loathing himself for not being better.

_

Peter was sitting at the ledge of the counter in the kitchen, talking avidly to Bruce, his eyes wide and bright. Tony walked in, looking around to see who else was in the main area. Thor and Loki were talking amongst themselves in the living room while Strange played on their Nintendo, swearing softly. Natasha, Steve and Clint were absent, which wasn’t unlike them. 

He waltzed into the kitchen, rinsing his mug and placing it under the coffee machines’ spout, turning it on again. One cup of coffee was never enough. 

“Morning Mr Stark!” Peter’s voice hit in a new light, still as effective as it had been the night before, but now Tony was full of guilt. Tony waved to him without looking at him, pulling out a box of cereal.  
“Nuh-uh. Nice try Tony.” It was Steve. Tony turned to look at him, paused in the act of pulling a bowl down from the cupboard. He wore a sympathetic smile, and it was as if the conversation in the bathroom never happened. That was one of the wonderful things about Steve. He knew when to take Tony’s bullshit and when not to. “You hungry Peter? Bruce? I’ll make us some breakfast.” He glanced at Peter and Bruce who paused talking to look at him. Tony locked eyes with him, and felt his heart jump.

He looked so happy. His blue eyes were wide with awe and he looked like he might start freaking out. 

“Really Mr Rogers? I would love that!” he squeaked happily, and Steve laughed and smiled along with Bruce. Tony just smiled to himself, looking down at his hands. 

“Please just call me Steve. Honestly, I hate formalities. Besides, you’re one of us now.” Steve gave Peter such a glowing smile that Peter’s cheeks went even redder than they already were and something in Tony’s stomach churned unpleasantly, and suddenly Steve didn’t seem so wonderful. 

“O-okay!” Peter said in the sort of tone one adopted when they were too amazed and full of wonder to articulate properly. Tony seethed quietly in his own world, turning back to the coffee machine. 

He really couldn’t win with himself. Stay away from him Tony. Keep him safe. Slit Steve’s throat for putting that smile on his face. Make sure Steve knows that he’s yours. Nothing was in his favour. 

“You’re making food?” Loki was beside Peter within the blink of an eye and Peter didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, to literally everyone’s astonishment, Loki rested his chin on top of Peter’s head and slid his arms protectively around his waist. Peter flushed pink but covered Loki’s arms with his own. Steve smiled and nodded. “Hm. I will partake then.” he muttered, and he closed his eyes. 

“You seem to be adjusting to Peter’s existence well, Loki.” Tony said casually, stirring in a little sugar into his coffee. He turned to see Loki’s piercing green eyes locked onto him.

“I’ve decided to adopt him. Well. Thor as well.” he replied smoothly and coldly, as if warning Tony. Peter’s eyes lit up. “Is that agreeable with you, Spiderling?” Loki addressed Peter, who gave a small squeak. 

“Y-yes! Thank you Mr Loki.” he muttered, and Tony wondered how this adorable thing was the cocky and funny man from last night. He obviously was completely different in the working world. 

“Nonsense. Loki will do just fine.” Loki muttered, and he lifted his head, tousled Peter’s curled hair and walked gracefully back to Thor. Thor smiled at him and Tony sipped his coffee. 

“Yeah, no more ‘Mr Banner’ for you either. It’s Bruce. We work together now.” Bruce added, and Peter gave him a glowing look. 

“I think I might die.” Peter mumbled feebly before burying his face in his arms. Bruce smiled and touched Peter’s back affectionately. 

“No dying kid. You almost did that last night.” Tony chuckled, and Peter looked up and the look in his eyes was different from the rest of the looks he’d given everyone, and Tony saw the admiration. He felt his chest swell dangerously and he offered a small smile to him. Peter returned it, cheeks pink, and Tony drank more coffee. 

“Damn Steve. You’re a real wiz in the kitchen. What are you even making?” Bruce cried suddenly. Steve turned around from the stove, smiling and stirring something in a pan.

“Omelets. I wanted to make pancakes but we’re out of milk and flour.” He said humbly. Tony swallowed his coffee quickly, placing the mug in the sink.

“J!” he called out, and Peter gave him a curious look. 

“Already done sir.” Jarvis replied, and Peter’s eyes widened. 

“Is that Jarvis? Your AI?” he blurted, and Tony nodded. “Ohhhh that’s so cool.” he whispered, and Tony chuckled to himself.  
“Hey Cap, you mind bringing us our share in the lab? I’m in the mood to get some work done.” he asked, bumping his shoulder against Steve’s. Steve gave him a fake annoyed look and nodded. “Love you.” Tony called, gesturing for Peter to follow him. Bruce scoffed. “Awe don’t get your panties in a twist. You two can nerd out later.” Tony teased fondly, walking down the corridor. 

“Workaholic!” Bruce called as Tony punched in the pin to his lab, Peter standing quietly behind him. He was still wearing Tony’s clothes...that wasn’t going to be a normal thing. He looked so small in Tony’s clothing. It did things to Tony. 

Once they were inside the lab, and Peter was gasping at the entire beautiful mess that was his workshop, Tony let himself relax and yawn. 

“Fucking hell I need something to eat.” he groaned, dropping into his chair and sliding across the room, turning on his computer system. Peter watched him and he pretended not to notice. “Jarvis, what’re the odds of Steve being done cooking in the next two minutes?” he asked aloud, and Peter held his breath. 

“Very unlikely sir, as he is preparing everyone else’s first.” Jarvis replied and Tony swore under his breath. 

“Of course he is. Alright kid. We should make you a new suit.” Tony spun around in his chair to face a stunned Peter, who gave him a look of disbelief. “What? I thought we talked about that last night. You need a new one.” Tony asked, and Peter shook his head.

“No, I know, I just...everything is happening all at once and I’m a little overwhelmed.” Peter confessed, and Tony blinked. 

“Well then talk about it. How do you like it here?” Tony asked, crossing his arms. He really could only tolerate conversations like this for Peter. Didn’t even know the kid and could already suffer through hearing how he felt. 

Bad ideas Tony. 

But it makes Peter sag with relief. And that makes Tony’s chest swell. 

“I love it here. I really do. Talking to Mr-Bruce. Talking to Bruce is amazing, he’s so smart and he understands everything I say and ask. Steve is absolutely wonderful. He’s really kind and just…” Peter began, and Tony kicked a chair towards him, and he sat down. “Dr Strange is really cool too. He showed me how he does his portal things and it was really amazing. Thor and Loki...well. Everyone seems shocked that Loki is so nice to me but I really like them.” he looked up at Tony, breaking his gaze from his lap. He’d pulled up his legs and was cross-legged in the chair, and fuck was there even one thing Tony could find about Peter that he didn’t like?

“Loki was one of the bad guys. He rarely shows any sort of emotion towards anyone except Thor. So for him to take a liking to you so quickly…” he trailed off. “You’re likable, kid.” he finished, and Peter gave him a smile.

Tony was definitely going to hell, he was sure of it now. First Class ticket and everything. 

They worked on his suit for a while and turns out that Peter liked the same music that Tony did. AC/DC, Nirvana, Nine Inch Nails, all of it. They blasted it, Peter dancing shamelessly around the room, adding ideas onto the hologram of his suit. 

“Okay, well, another thing is guys who have guns are a real pain in my ass.” Peter pointed out, spinning around in his chair, the tablet Tony had given him in his lap. (He had claimed the chair after Tony said that basically no one used it, and to show his ownership, he’d stolen a sharpie from Tony’s desk and drawn his spider symbol.)

(It should be noted that Tony watched him as he carefully drew the symbol, tongue sticking out of his mouth like he was a cartoon, and Tony once again reminded himself that he was going to hell for developing a crush on a 19 year old kid.)

“I’ve already installed a bullet-proof lining under the first layer of fabric.” Tony replied, double checking that he actually did do what he said. Sure enough, there it was, a bulletproof lining. Peter hummed, zooming in on something on his tablet. He had the collar of Tony’s shirt between his teeth, and he was fidgeting with his tablet’s pen. Tony was breathless. 

It wasn’t wrong. Tony knew that. Peter was an adult. It wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t altogether right, which if Tony was honest, when had he ever been altogether right, apart from cutting weapons manufacturing from his company?

“Mm. Okay well I want to look at my web fluid.” Peter mumbled, spinning his chair to face Tony, who had his arms crossed and quickly pretended to be looking at the hologram instead of Peter. But once Peter’s words registered, Tony snapped his gaze to Peter again, stunned and confused. 

“But isn’t that in you?” He demanded and Peter gave a small grin and nodded.

“I rewire my DNA occasionally. Make the webbing stronger, quicker, easier on my body.” he explained, that damned smile just teasing his lips. Tony wondered how many kisses it would take to wipe the smile right off of his face and replace it with a much different expression. 

“How? You definitely didn’t have access to the proper technology.” he asked, allowing himself to show how impressed he was, and how much he didn’t believe it to be possible. Peter shrugged and removed the collar of the shirt from his mouth. It was a black AC/DC shirt, but Tony could see a small wet spot from where it’d been in Peter’s mouth. 

“I told you I worked at a bunch of colleges and Universities right? Well, if I had spare time, I’d sort of…” he trailed off, the smile gone, cheeks going red. Tony raised one eyebrow. “I’d sneak into their labs.” he blurted finally, and Tony snorted.

“Not so pure as I thought Parker. Breaking into labs for your own personal gain?” he tsked at Peter teasingly, and Peter went even redder. 

“They rarely used the labs! All that tech was just sitting there...I didn’t break anything.” he quickly defended, and Tony laughed. It was a full laugh, the one that seemed to emit from every inch of Tony. 

Again, going to hell. 

“So you create the web fluid and...then what?” Tony dropped back into his seat, pushing off of one of his several work tables, hidden underneath scraps of metal and tiny pieces of unused tech, so that he rolled over to where Peter was. “How do you rewire your DNA?” Peter shrugged again, and replaced the collar of the shirt between his teeth. He probably didn’t even realize he was doing it, which just made him cuter. 

“Um, well, I’d inject it.” he muttered slowly, as if he didn’t actually want to admit this. Tony raised one eyebrow. “Then if my body rejected it, I’d have to stay home a few days until it...disposed of it.” his cheeks were flushed red, and he was staring down at his tablet without looking. Tony’s jaw unhinged. 

“You mean to say that you put an experimental fluid into your body to see if your body would even accept it? What if you had gotten even one thing wrong and you killed yourself?” he cried, amazed and slightly annoyed. This kid was as idiotic as he was. They’d go well together. 

Yes, they’d go so well together that they’d be unstoppable, accidently destroying the world in their efforts to create. Tony bit his tongue at this thought, refusing to let himself think about it any longer.

“Well, the thing is, more often than not I would get it wrong. That’s what I meant by having to stay home a few days.” Peter explained, cheeks still red, but abandoning his shy I don’t want to admit my stupidity, tone. Tony swallowed. “My body would dispel the fluid...well you know I shoot webs from my wrists?” he scooted over in his chair and held up his wrist. Tony examined it. 

There was a tiny hole where his wrist turned into his hand, and it was surrounded by a small bump of scar tissue. Tony wanted to wince, but it was extremely interesting. Besides, Peter’s skin was warm and soft under his calloused fingertips and he wasn’t about to give up an excuse to touch that soft skin..

“The way I dispel the fluid is...well. It comes out from there. It’s really painful. Sometimes I have to go somewhere completely remote so that no one thinks someone is dying.” Peter muttered, and Tony raised his gaze from Peter’s wrist to his blue eyes. His gut twisted with sympathy. 

Peter had been alone. So completely alone. 

“You aren’t alone anymore.” Tony whispered, barely aware that he’d even spoken. Peter’s eyes widened, his cheeks went red, and he nodded, ducking his head slowly. Had Tony said the wrong thing? He released Peter’s wrist, but Peter kept it there, hovering, until he gave a shiver and pulled his arms around himself, bringing his knees up to his chest. 

“M’sorry.” Peter mumbled, voice muffled by the collar of the shirt and his knees. He was shaking ever so subtly, Tony could see that now, and he had a split second of panic. 

What was he supposed to do? Hold him? Touch him? Leave him alone? Stay silent? Say it was okay?

“Just...after losing my aunt...there wasn’t any money. I was evicted from our apartment. I spent most of it on funeral arrangements, had to pay extra so she was next to my uncle Ben. “ he sniffed, and that was when the answer was clear to Tony. He reached up, placed a hand on the top of Peter’s chead, rubbing his scalp through his curls. And then he sat. And he listened.

He listened to Peter crying about how he’d watched his aunt dying, but hadn’t been able to do anything because he was busy with the robbers. They’d shot her once in the chest, enough to kill her, but not enough to end it quickly. She’d called for Peter, her voice choked with blood and tears. Peter hadn’t made it in time to be by her side, to comfort her as she drew her last breath. 

He had killed those robbers. He hadn’t meant to. It was the first time he’d taken someone's life and he had loved watching them die like how his aunt had. A savage pleasure had coursed through his veins as they bled out. Two of them. He’d killed them with their own gun, the one that had taken the life of his last living family. 

He called the cops after that, numb with loss and revenge. He wasn’t charged with murder. Or manslaughter. He got off the hook, and he lost his apartment. He kept being Spider-man though, that was the one thing he’d been able to hold onto. It took effort from that point on to keep criminals alive. His PTSD didn’t allow for him to see the criminals as anyone else than the ones he’d killed. 

He fell into silence. Tony felt sick and sympathetic at the same time. His hand had slid from Peter’s head to his shoulder, and all he could think to do was the thing he shouldn’t. 

So he did it anyway. 

He pulled Peter from his chair, lifting him easily because of his strength, and sat down on the concrete floor of his lab, cradling him between his crossed legs. Peter was curled up, his head tucking under Tony’s chin like they were made of the same puzzle.

Then he told him about his fucked up life too. How he’d made impressively good weapons - (Well I know that Mr Stark.) - and how he’d been brought up. His father was cold. His mother wasn’t a whole lot better, but in his eyes, she’d been mother Mary. He went to MIT and fucked himself up more. Drinking. Sleeping with women who were older than him. He confessed he didn’t even remember who he’d lost his virginity to. He’d been too drunk and there had been too many girls. 

He talked about how he wished that his parents weren’t dead. Even though his father was an asshole. He said that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have his dad around now. He talked about how he’d abandoned his emotions when he was young, and he’d never broken out of the habit.

Silence followed. Tony wanted to tell Peter that even though it had only been less than two days, it was so much easier to be around Peter than anyone else. He held his tongue though, and Peter snuggled into him. 

Bad idea Tony. Move away from Peter. Step away from the kid. 

“Mr Stark?” Peter’s voice was soft and quiet, like he’d just gotten up from bed. Tony hummed in response. “Thanks. For telling me that. And listening to me. And um...well. This.” he muttered, breath hot against Tony’s chest. Tony’s heart skipped a beat and he hoped Peter couldn’t hear it.

“Of course.” he replied softly. It was as if the kid had never been touched affectionately in his life. He was pressed against Tony, one hand carefully over his arc reactor, the other curled at his own chest. 

“No one...no one really ever touched me like this.” Peter whispered, almost inaudible if it weren’t for how close they were. Huh. So Tony guessed right. Peter moved closer, if possible, as if him bringing up the fact that they were like this would cause Tony to move away. 

In normal cases, that would be the case. But Tony liked Peter too much. They both needed this, even if it was crossing seven hundred invisible lines Tony had made himself draw. Even if it was another thing on Tony’s conscience. Even if it meant eventually hurting the kid.  
But that was okay. He would be fine. He had to know that it wouldn’t ever play out that way. He was smart, as smart as Tony if not smarter. He had to know. 

An hour, maybe two, later, Peter was curled up on a couch in Tony’s lab that he kept in there for the nights he never crawled into his bed. He was asleep, breathing steadily and softly, the sound barely even there, his arms curled around himself. It’d be torture to sleep beside him. His breathing was so quiet; it would either soothe Tony or make him wake every so often to make sure Peter was still alive. 

His curls were in his face, covering part of his closed eyes. Tony walked over, wiping his hands clean of motor oil on a grey, almost equally dirty cloth, and gently brushed the curls out of Peter’s face. They were impossibly soft and Tony knew he could waste hours playing with the strands. Peter gave a sleepy moan, smiling a little, and then falling back to the neutral expression of sleep. Tony’s chest swelled again. 

Bad idea Tony. 

He turned back to his workbench and sat, adjusting a few things on Peter’s new suit. After a few minutes of distracted work, he stopped trying to think about his work and stopped moving, turning his chair around to face the sleeping beauty.

Even worse idea Tony. 

He turned back to his work. He needed to modify the size. That was the last issue. For that, he needed to scan Peter’s body, but he needed to scan without the interference of clothing. Well. That sent pictures into Tony’s head, and his gut churned pleasantly.

Probably the worst idea yet Tony. 

He gave a growl of frustration and dropped his forehead onto his workbench. The result was a satisfying thunk and a small blossom of pain. Maybe, if he hit his head hard enough, he’d forget about how much he liked Peter. But then that wouldn’t work. One look and he’d either remember or fall all over again. 

Stupid emotions, rearing their ugly heads, mocking Tony and his inablility to restrain whenever he started to like someone. He groaned softly and raised his head slightly off the workbench, only to let it fall again. Another even more satisfying thunk and a larger blossom of pain. 

Now if he did it again, he’d want to do it until his head was bleeding, and Peter was sleeping just right there. This wasn’t the time for self-punishment, however much desired. He sat up, rubbing the spot where his head hurt the most, though why he did it he wasn’t sure, and looked at Peter. 

Still asleep. Still beautiful. 

“Sir, Steve Rogers has requested that you and Mr Parker come out of your hiding hole and eat something, because you both haven’t eaten since breakfast.” Jarvis said, making Tony jump slightly. He’d been so focused on looking at Peter like the creep that he was. He turned around back to his workbench quickly, as Peter gave a growl and sat up, running his fingers through his hair. 

“Tell him we’ll be out in a few minutes.” Tony replied calmly, as if his heart wasn’t hammering. He turned around to look at Peter, and stopped breathing. 

Well. Peter was probably the cutest thing he’d ever seen, his lips a little puffy from sleep, his eyes half closed. His hair was messier than normal, and he looked a little limp with sleep. 

“Mmmm. I fell asleep.” Peter groaned, rubbing his eyes. Tony smiled to himself.

“Yes, you did. Don’t worry about it though. You seemed tired enough.” he muttered, trying to keep the smile from his voice. Peter hummed. “Come on. Cap’s gonna have a fit if we don’t go out and eat.” Tony stretched out his arms above his head, his muscles groaning happily. Peter nodded and stood, stumbling slightly.

_

Two weeks later

Peter was standing, just in front of him, hand outstretched, smiling. It was the sort of smile that caused your eyes to close, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t need to see to know Tony was right there. Pepper was with him too, one hand around his shoulders, smiling, but not as much as Peter. Her hand was outstretched too, reaching for him. 

He was standing on a beach, and the sun on his skin was so incredibly warm. Peter and Pepper were laughing and smiling, urging him to come into the ocean with them. He smiled like he didn’t have a care in the world and chased after them, laughing and reaching out to them. 

He stumbled over something in the sand and paused to examine it. It was a black handled silver knife, and it looked sharp enough to do a lot of damage without much effort. He looked up, and suddenly he wasn’t on the beach, and there was no more sun and sand. Instead, a mechanical chill settled over Tony, and he shivered. It looked like a rundown basement, dark and only illuminated by a single, flickering bulb. Peter and Pepper were tied to two metal poles protruding from the ground, breathing hard. 

“Don’t, Tony.” Pepper whispered, tears in her eyes. Tony immediately had to do a double take, but found that he couldn’t. He was walking towards them, brandishing the knife. He couldn’t stop himself and he couldn’t speak. 

“M-Mr Stark--please!” Peter sobbed, and Tony’s stomach lurched violently with grief and horror. He watched as he brought the knife down into their shoulders, slicing the flesh along their collarbone, cutting their necks open enough that he could see the ghostly white bone of their spines. 

He was covered in their blood now. Soaked to the skin, and his heart was pounding, not in horror, but in joy. He laughed and laughed until he was hysterical, bringing the knife to his lips and tasting their combined blood.

Tony gave a jolt, jumping up in bed, the sheets plastered to his bare skin from his sweat, his chest heaving wildly. He couldn’t stand the feeling of the blankets against his skin, so he thrashed around, kicking the blankets away desperately. He couldn’t calm down his breathing, and he couldn’t stop the tears that seemed so ready to fall down his cheeks, and so he gave up trying to fight it. He curled up in the centre of his bed and cried helplessly into the mattress.

It was only a dream, he told himself amidst the tears. You only dreamt it. 

Nothing worked, in fact, thinking about the dream seemed to make it worse. He was shaking violently, shuddering and spasming and fuck he needed someone to calm him down. Didn’t he put in a protocol to call someone if he got like this? When he couldn’t control his anxiety attacks, especially after nightmares like that?

“Jarvis.” he managed to choke out. He hated crying. He hated the way the tears were hot against his skin, almost comforting but not enough. He knew just saying Jarvis’s name would be enough. He clutched at the sheets, pulling them and tugging on them, as if begging them to make his head shut up. 

He didn’t kill them. He didn’t kill them. Peter was just down the hall. Pepper was off with some other guy. They were safe from him. He had just been dreaming. 

“Tones? You alright?” Steve. Oh wonderful savior Steve. Of course he wasn’t alright, but his uncontrollable sobs didn’t permit him to say so. Steve walked further into the room, stopped dead, and then rushed to Tony’s side. “Hey hey it’s okay, it’s okay, you’re alright. Everyone’s okay.” Steve murmured, pulling Tony into his lap, cradling him like he had cradled Peter just a couples weeks ago. 

“I killed them.” Tony managed, surprisingly steadily. “Peter and Pepper. I killed them.” Another wave of shaking and sobbing overcame him, and he clutched at his own arms so tightly that the skin broke, his jaw clenched. It didn’t matter if he bled. He didn’t care. Steve had him pressed against his broad chest, his arms around Tony’s shoulders, drawing small circles into his arms. 

“You had a nightmare. It was just your head screwing with you.” Steve whispered, and Tony shivered into him. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.” Tony nodded, breathing calming down slightly. Then, Steve started to sing softly. It was some old lullaby from the 40’s probably, but Tony recognized it as the one his mother used when he was very little. 

Before Tony even realized, he was half asleep against Steve’s chest, humming along to the tune, his breathing slow and steady, his heart beating normally. 

“Do you want me to stay here for the night?” Steve asked, quietly breaking the spell. Tony nodded silently, and Steve laid them out, keeping Tony close. Tony gave a very soft sleepy moan and snuggled into Steve’s chest, pressing his cheek against him. “You know, you should be glad we’re friends.” Steve muttered, pushing his face into one of Tony’s pillows. Tony grunted. 

And then they were asleep again, and Tony wished that he was cuddled up with Peter. 

_

Tony’s coffee was definitely not right. He had no idea what was wrong with it, but something was. It was a new brand of coffee, another one of the several companies trying to get him to buy theirs instead of everyone else's. He’d grinded the beans, put them into the coffee machine, filled it up with water, turned the machine on and waited, like any other day. When it was done doing its thing, he’d taken his favourite mug, steaming with the new coffee, and sat on one of the barstools, and looked at it. 

Yeah, something wasn’t right.

“Hey, Mr Stark, I was thinking about maybe getting some stuff for my room--” Peter bounced into the room, and stopped dead when he saw that Tony was staring into his coffee cup. “Um. Are you okay?” he asked, walking much more slowly towards Tony. 

“Something’s not right with it.” Tony muttered, concentrating on the way the liquid was swirling slightly. Peter peered into the cup, and Tony moved so that he had a better view. He was close now, close enough that Tony could barely smell Peter.

He smelled like the ocean. Tony dubbed the scent his new favourite.

“It looks fairly normal.” Peter muttered. Then he picked it up and very carefully sipped the drink, wincing slightly at the heat. “It’s hot.” he whined, and he placed it back down. “Tastes fine. Good, actually.” He admitted, tilting his head slightly in acknowledgment of the drink. 

“What’re you guys up to?” Steve yawned, walking into the kitchen, one arm extended around his head to scratch between his shoulder blades. Peter grinned and turned slightly to face Steve.

“Something wasn’t right with his coffee. I just tasted it and it’s okay.” Peter explained, walking over to Steve. Tony watched him carefully, eyeing his movements. He probably shouldn’t have let him drink the coffee. Steve caught Tony’s gaze and raised one eyebrow, moving his eyes to Peter.

“You were saying something.” Tony asked, completely hiding the fact that he was observing Peter. Peter spun around and nodded, sitting beside Tony. 

“Yup. I wanted to get some new stuff for my room. I’ve saved up from my jobs so I wondered if you’d take me to get stuff.” He explained, and Tony raised his eyebrows. 

Saved up from his jobs? Plural? Didn’t he know that Tony would eagerly spend all of his money on him in the blink of an eye? 

“You work multiple jobs?” Tony demanded, and Peter paused, blank, and then his face flooded with colour. 

“Yes! I have to.” he protested, and Tony scoffed. “You guys have it all rich and everything but I’m still Peter Parker, and I still have to work in order to keep people thinking that I’m still me.” he snapped, and Tony was speaking before he could even realize the words had formed in his mind. 

“Who the hell is gonna care if you drop off the face of the earth?” he demanded, and Peter’s eyes widened. He froze. He hadn’t meant it like that. He really hadn’t meant it like the way it sounded. 

A moment later, Peter’s bedroom door was slammed shut and probably locked, and Tony’s forehead was against the marble countertop. 

Idiot. Probably the worst thing he could have said was that, and because he was such an idiot, he went and said it. 

“You’ve always had a wonderful way with words, sir.” Jarvis said, and Tony vowed to virtually kill Jarvis for a few days.

“Shut up J, you fuckin’ prick.” Tony growled, and there was no response. Good. He groaned and reached for the cup of coffee, grasping for his much. The result was Tony howling in pain and leaping back, knocking three of the five barstools over in a crash. The coffee had turned to acid or something similar and had very affectionately burned his fingertips. 

“Jesus. That’s pleasant. At least you didn’t drink any.” Steve grimaced, and Tony nodded, sighing and looking at his fingertips. The flesh was burned away, blood dripping down onto the floor. He sighed again, more in frustration than in actual pain. He’d suffered worse. 

“Vinegar, please.” he muttered, clenching his jaw and walking over to Steve, who ducked down under the sink to open a cupboard. He pulled out the vinegar, pulled Tony’s hand over the sink and poured a generous amount over it. He gritted his teeth as another wave of pain hit him. 

Then it struck him. He snapped his hand out of Steve’s grip and made a mad dash for Peter’s room. He grabbed at the doorknob. Locked. 

“Jarvis open the door open the fucking door.” Tony snarled, clenching his fists and ignoring the pain that sprouted from his right hand. There was a soft click and Tony just about kicked the door in. 

Sure enough, Peter was lying on the floor, his limbs sprawled. Tony growled and dropped to his knees, turning Peter over onto his back. 

Then Tony threw up. 

There was a huge, gory hole in his stomach, where blood and the contents of his stomach had gushed out. Peter himself wasn’t making any sounds, or was breathing, and Tony slid headfirst into a panic attack. 

It was a blur after that. Tony shouting for Steve, for Strange, for anyone. He’d been so damned useless. He’d watched as Steve carried Peter carefully down to the med bay, and Strange followed him quickly. He’d watched as Loki and Thor had cleaned the blood from Peter’s carpet, and he’d watched as Natasha and Clint pulled him out of Peter’s bedroom and into his own. 

“No I need to go and see if he’s okay.” Tony protested through his clenched jaw, as they dragged him through the hallway. “Romanoff, Barton, let me the fuck go.” he cried, kicking like a little child. They didn’t listen. They shoved him into his room and locked the door. He pounded at the door, shouting threats and insults, and then eventually just pleading for them to let him out. 

He was pathetic. No wonder Pepper had cheated on him.

He was slumped against the door when someone turned the handle. He wanted it to be Peter. He knew it wouldn’t be.

“Tones…” Ah, it was Steve. “Get up. I can’t come in if you don’t move.” Tony reluctantly slumped on the other side of the door so that Steve could slip through, closing the door behind him. He dropped down to his knees beside Tony, the insufferably good friend. “Okay, we’re gonna get you up. Come on.” Steve grunted as he slid his arms around Tony and lifted him as if he weighed nothing, which he did not. 

Once Tony was sitting on his bed, Steve sitting beside him as he leaned against his shoulder, he finally spoke. 

“You know, if I lose him, I might just give up.” he admitted very softly, as if the words weren’t even coming from his lips, but just directly from his mind. Steve tensed a little bit, and Tony knew it was because he was talking about giving up. Steve never liked it when Tony talked like this, but what the hell was the friendship if Tony lied?

“I don’t have any news about him. I brought him to med bay, and then left immediately to come and check on you.” Steve replied, voice a little strained. Tony hummed. “He’s 19 years old you know.” Steve added. Tony snorted.

“As if I could ever let myself forget that.” he muttered bitterly. “I’m aware. Painfully aware.” Steve chuckled softly and wrapped an arm around Tony, squeezing him gently. “Two weeks. That’s all it took. I’m still the fool I was when I was 20 years younger.” Tony added sadly. Steve snorted.

“Yeah well, I never really thought you weren’t.” he muttered affectionately, and Tony sighed. “Do you love him?” Tony choked on his own saliva.

Coughing and tearing up, he stood and gave Steve an incredulous look. 

“Of course not. It’s only been two weeks. I’m just incredibly fond of him.” Tony hissed, clearing his throat to make sure he wasn’t going to start coughing again. Steve raised his eyebrows and Tony shot him a dark look. He raised his hands in surrender. 

“Okay. But you having nightmares about killing him and Pepper seem to say something Tones.” Steve remarked. Tony pretended not to hear him. He ruffled his hair again, biting his tongue anxiously. He might not ever see Peter again, and the last thing he’d said was something awful. “Hey. He’ll be okay.” Steve stood, touching Tony’s arm as he stared off into space. His eyes went back into focus and he looked at Steve, half annoyed, half desperate. 

“You can’t just say that. You can’t make a promise like that when you know there’s a stupidly good chance that it’s not true.” Tony retorted sharply. Steve sighed, his shoulders sagging softly.

“I know. But you promised Peter he would live, and he did, so maybe second times’ the charm.” Steve replied quietly. Tony gave him a sympathetic look. He shrugged and ran his fingers through his blonde hair. “We could probably go down to med bay if you’re calm enough. And if you keep your cool.” he added slowly, and Tony tapped his fingers against his thigh. 

“I haven’t lost my cool yet. That was nowhere near losing my shit.” he said quickly. Steve raised one eyebrow. “I won’t lose my cool. I’m calm.” 

“You aren’t calm. Far from it, actually.” Steve said skeptically. Tony bit his tongue. 

“I’m calm enough. Can we go down now before I figure out a way to get there by myself?” he muttered, still half biting his tongue. Steve groaned and closed his eyes, nodding. Tony spun around on his heel and grabbed his door handle, throwing it open. 

_

Peter gave a small moan. Every part of his body ached. He hunched over, in a bed apparently, one hand resting gently over his stomach. It was wrapped in bandages, and he swallowed. Tears welled up in his eyes from the pain. His throat was in complete agony. He whimpered, which made everything hurt more, and that made him whimper again. 

“Mm.” there was a sleepy grunt and Peter clenched his jaw and sat up a little bit, looking at the rest of his bed. 

Well. He hadn’t really expected Tony Stark to be asleep, half on the end of his bed, half sitting in a chair he’d pulled up beside it. His glasses were strewn at Peter’s feet, evidently discarded without much care, and his hair was messier than usual. Peter blushed. 

“Mr Stark.” Peter breathed, barely speaking, wondering how on earth he’d be able to wake him up gently. His throat felt better, and he mentally thanked his healing factor. He gently nudged Stark’s cheek with his foot, which was only because Stark had fallen asleep laying on his ankles. He still didn’t wake. “Mr Stark.” he tried, with a little more voice, but this time his throat hurt a little more. Still, Stark didn’t wake. 

So Peter laid back down and breathed slowly. He didn’t remember what had happened. He just remembered Stark being a prick, and then him running off. Why he had bandages around his stomach eluded him, but it was nice to have Stark this close. He was cute when he was asleep, his face finally peaceful like it never was during the day. 

He smiled to himself. He’d like to make Stark relax occasionally. He’d knead the tension for his shoulders and back, and run a bath for him. He’d do a lot of other things to get Stark to relax, but thinking about that while said man was asleep on his ankles wasn’t the best idea.  
“Mmm kid. You awake yet?” Stark’s voice was soft and low, and it sent shivers right down Peter’s spine and he gave a feeble, still sleep-heavy moan. It hurt, but what the hell. “Oh. Um. Hi.” Stark quickly sat up and grabbed his glasses, rubbing his face and messing his hair. 

Peter had never really gotten a good listen to what Stark sounded like when he fumbled over his words, or when he was embarrassed, but both of those things had just happened and Peter couldn’t help himself from swooning over how attractive Stark was. 

“Hello.” he whispered so softly that at first he wondered if Stark had even heard him. But he had, and he leaned back in the chair, looking tense. Peter slowly sat up, wincing slightly, and Stark’s eyes widened.

“No no no, you stay lying down. Your fucking stomach just had a gaping hole in it.” Stark ordered, gently pushing on Peter’s shoulder to make him lie back down. Peter pushed against him and shook his head, scooting closer to him. 

“M’ fine.” Peter hissed, playfully shoving Stark’s hand away and running his fingers through his hair. Mm. He felt greasy. Stark looked at him, eyes worried, and he offered a small smile. “You need to relax sometimes.” Peter whispered, throat not as bad as it was a few seconds ago. Stark snorted.

“It’s not that easy.” he retorted, and Peter raised an eyebrow. 

“I’ll prove you wrong.” he muttered, and it was Stark’s turn to raise his eyebrows. Peter was blushing, he knew it, even if he couldn’t feel it. He could see Stark’s mind working behind his chocolate coloured eyes. The scientific process of deciding whether or not it was a good idea to accept Peter’s challenge. 

Well, joke’s on Stark, it was a good idea.

“Hm. Alright.” Stark hummed, and then his eyes narrowed. “Tonight is too soon. You’re still resting.” Peter shrugged. 

“I’ll be good in a few hours.” 

“Acid disintegrated a hole in your stomach and you almost died, again.” Stark snapped all too quickly. Peter almost smiled. 

“Is that what happened? Huh. It was the coffee, wasn’t it.” he stated more than asked, but Stark gave a curt nod nonetheless. “Well, better me than you.” he sighed, laying back down on the pillows. He barely noticed that his throat was completely healed, and his stomach was on its way. Stark made a choking noise and Peter very nearly laughed until he remembered that it would be very painful. 

“What does that mean?!” he demanded, and Peter blinked at him. 

“I have a healing factor. You...you wouldn’t have survived.” Peter said slowly, knowing Stark knew this. Stubborn man. Stark gave a huff and sat back in his chair, arms crossed, eyes anywhere but on Peter. “Mr Stark.” Peter urged, and Stark didn’t look at him. 

“I was an asshole to you. Then you went and almost died.” he growled, and Peter sighed.

“It wasn’t completely my fault.” 

“You drank the fucking acid.”

“I didn’t know it was acid.” 

“You still drank it.”

“Like I said, better you than me.” 

Stark’s eyes were alight with a flame that Peter knew was un-dousable. It sent another shiver down Peter’s spine, though this time it wasn’t nearly as pleasant. 

“Okay, look, I see your point, I’m sorry for drinking the fuckin’ acid.” Peter grumbled, and the flame in Stark’s eyes disappeared and was immediately replaced with shock. 

“Language, Parker.” Peter snorted. It hurt his stomach but Tony Stark, Tony Stark, just told him to watch his language. 

“I’m sorry, what? Did Tony Stark just tell me to watch my language?” Peter laughed, ignoring the pain in his stomach and Stark huffed, and Peter could see that it was partially laughter. He didn’t say anything after that, smiling to himself and gently rubbing the bandages over his stomach. It dulled the pain slightly.

“I’m sorry for being a dick.” Stark muttered and Peter raised his eyebrows.

“Like two seconds ago or--” Peter grinned despite himself and Stark gave him a dark look. “I forgive you. It’s not like you’re wrong or anything. Peter Parker is a nobody. Just a smart kid who teaches University classes when needed. Spider-man is someone.” he continued, the smile faltering from his face. Stark made a noise and Peter looked at him. 

“You’re someone.” he said, a little firmly, a little indignantly. Peter shrugged. “You’re someone to me.” Stark muttered, and Peter felt his cheeks go hot faster than they ever had in a long while. 

“Mr Stark--” Peter stammered slightly. Stark waved his hand dismissively. 

“Tony. Please. How many times do you have to almost die for me for you to use my first name?” Tony said softly, and Peter flushed an even darker shade of pink. Tony wasn’t looking at him, and Peter wished he would. 

Whatever unspoken thing they had between them, the sexual tension, the attraction that they ignored, it was getting to Peter and he was sick of pretending it was nothing. Sure. Tony was 25 years older than him and one of the smartest men on the planet, and why would he ever look at Peter like that, except that he was. For whatever reason, Tony Stark was looking at Peter the way Peter was looking at him. 

“Tony...okay.” Peter breathed, his name a foriegn object on his tongue. It was nice though, it rolled off quite smoothly. Tony. It felt like a step. Whatever they were stepping towards, Peter wasn’t entirely sure, but forwards was always good. Tony’s face looked a little pinker than it had a moment ago, and Peter swallowed. 

The silence pressed in on them, pressuring them to say something, or do something. Peter wanted to press his lips against Tony’s jaw, murmuring how he was sorry but he’d always rather he take the hit rather than Tony. Of course he didn’t. He could barely move without wincing in pain, and they hadn’t gotten that far yet. 

“Are you hungry?” Tony asked after several awkward moments. Peter nodded silently, and Tony stood, walking out of the room without another word. 

It didn’t seem to occur to either of them that Peter’s stomach had just been attacked by acid, but it wasn’t necessary. The idea of getting food was just an excuse to keep what was hidden, hidden. Peter sighed and sank into the pillows, closing his eyes. 

So Tony really did like him. Peter clenched his jaw. 

There really wasn’t any way it would work, if they did get past the part of actually admitting to each other that they felt the same. He was much older. Peter was no one. If he suddenly came out as dating a 19 year old kid that no one had ever heard of before, it would destroy not only Tony, but Peter too. (The thought of dating Tony Stark made Peter’s cheeks warm up again, nonetheless.) The only way it would work is if Peter was another ten years older, or Tony 15 years younger. 

That didn’t really stop Peter from hoping, but he knew that reality was a bitch when it came to situations like this. 

Tony came back with food in one hand, and it looked like Peter’s favourite take out. He sat, not in his chair, but at the end of Peter’s bed and pulled out various boxes from the inside of a bag. Peter sat up more quickly than he should have, but to his pleasant surprise, there was no pain. 

They ate quietly, and Peter was able to eat without stress. Maybe he should have waited, but there wasn’t any pain, and as far as he knew, there wasn’t even a scar on his stomach. Peter watched Tony occasionally out of the corner of his eye, not daring to stare too long, but not able to keep himself from stealing glances every so often. Peter wondered if when he wasn’t looking, not just now, but in general, if Tony stole glances too. If he watched the way he moved and committed the details to memory. 

It was a hopeful thought, and a stupid one. Of course he did. It wasn’t hard to guess. Tony had been treating Peter differently than everyone else on the team and seemed to smile so much more when he was around.

But if Peter was wrong, and he’d guessed wrong, it would ruin whatever fragile thing they had. Friendship or whatever. So Peter promised himself not to make the first move. Tony was more than capable of showing how he felt towards Peter if he wanted to. 

Then the food was discarded. Tony pulled Peter’s flimsy foam bowl out of his hands and shoved it clumsily onto the chair. Peter gave a cry of indignance because he really wasn’t done with that, but the sound was lost in the back of his throat when Tony pressed him back into his pillows with his lips, kissing him forcefully but affectionately. The cry turned into a whimper and Peter slid his arms around Tony, pulling him down on top of him. 

Tony’s weight was perfect. He wasn’t heavy, but he wasn’t light, and Peter loved it. He loved the feeling of Tony’s warm mouth slipping against his, the feeling of his stubble scratching Peter’s hypersensitive skin, the heat from Tony’s body. Everything was perfect. He eased his legs apart under the blanket so that Tony’s hips rested comfortably against Peter’s without his legs in the way. The movement made Tony growl appreciatively and Peter gripped his shoulders in response. 

Then Tony’s hands were under the blanket and pressed against Peter’s hot skin, brushing the bandages. Then, as if something smacked Tony upside the head, he pulled back, on his hands and knees above Peter, breathing hard. Peter blinked, licked his lips to make sure he wasn’t dreaming and he was actually tasting Tony Stark, and looked up at Tony with glossy blue eyes. 

“I forgot about your stomach.” he muttered lamely, and Peter peeled away the bandages to show that, of course, there wasn’t even a scar. Tony made a little gasp noise, moved down and mouthed at Peter’s skin, biting gently and licking him affectionately. Peter arched his back and moaned softly, breathlessly, closing his eyes in bliss. 

Tony moved back up and kissed Peter hungrily again, and Peter curled his arms around Tony once again, pulling him impossibly close. Tony’s hips pressed against Peter’s, and Peter whined at what he felt pushed against him. 

He hadn’t really expected how good it would feel to have Tony hard against him. He hadn’t expected Tony to be so hard so soon; surely he wasn’t that good? His own hard cock gave a twitch at the sensation, and he absent-mindedly rocked his hips into Tony’s. 

“Sir, I suggest you compose yourself before Steve Rogers comes in. You have one minute.” Jarvis said in his monotone voice from above, and Tony wasted no time in moving away from Peter, adjusting his clothes. Peter, breathless, sat up, bunching the blankets at his waist and hips to hide his arousal. Tony hesitated, glancing at the door, before he leaned over and kissed Peter so quickly that he barely had time to register what had happened before Steve walked in. 

Peter knew he would give everything away, just by the expression on his face. His lips were probably a little swollen and definitely pinker than usual, and his cheeks were most likely red. 

Tony, however, looked perfect as usual. Not a hair out of place, not a single thing to give away that he’d just made out with Peter. Though, his lips did look a little puffier, but he could blame that on biting them, or the spicy food. 

“Hey Peter.” Steve said, smiling and sitting beside Tony at the end of his bed. “Smells like chinese.” he wrinkled his nose and Tony gestured to the take out boxes stacked precariously on the chair. 

“My stomach is all healed now.” Peter informed, trying to remain completely casual and not suspicious whatsoever. Steve raised his eyebrows and glanced at the blankets bunched at Peter’s waist. Peter fought the urge to cling the blankets to him protectively, knowing Tony wasn’t exactly careful when he bit his skin down there. 

“Your healing factor is pretty handy then. You just about died.” Steve thought aloud, rubbing the back of his neck. Tony gave Peter a firm look.

“That’s twice too many times.” he muttered bitterly, and Peter scoffed. 

“Well, it meant your ass was saved both times so I don’t actually have a problem with it.” he grumbled, and Steve and Tony both raised their eyebrows.

“Language.” they said together and Peter groaned, flopping back into the pillows. 

“Well. I just came in to check up on you and make sure Tony wasn’t lecturing you too much.” Steve said, getting to his feet. Peter hummed, his eyes closed. “Glad you’re feeling better Pete.” Steve muttered, patting the bed as if it was Peter, and walked out without another word. 

Peter sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He wasn’t sure he wanted to look at Tony just yet. 

“You alright?” Tony spoke first, and Peter was grateful. Peter sat up, pushing away the blankets, deciding that fuck it, why shouldn’t he be allowed to make moves? He pushed Tony onto his back, sliding his glasses off his face, looking into the brown eyes. He swung a leg over Tony’s hips, straddling him, and pleased to feel that he was still hard. 

Peter smiled, one hand touching Tony’s cheek, brushing the soft skin there. Tony’s eyes were full of hunger and affection, and he wasn’t moving, probably to let Peter do what he wanted. 

“Now you seem fine.” Tony whispered, a little breathless. He moved his hips slightly against Peter’s, earning a blissful expression from Peter. The expression was quickly replaced by another smile, this time, his hands pressed against Tony’s chest on either side of the arc reactor, his ass pressed against Tony’s lap. Tony’s hands slid up Peter’s bare thighs, resting on his hips that were covered by the thin fabric of his boxers. 

“You...ah.” Peter murmured, breaking off when Tony’s thumbs began to draw tiny circles into his hips. “Stop, I can’t even talk when you...mm.” he grinned as he protested, but again, broke off because the circles were getting bigger and closer to his cock. Tony paused, and Peter let out a soft sigh, leaning down and kissing Tony gently. Tony groaned into Peter’s mouth, his calloused hands sliding up Peter’s back and touching every bit of exposed skin he could. 

“So pretty.” Tony growled, biting at Peter’s throat, one hand in his blonde curls. Peter whined and pressed his chest against Tony’s, the cool metal of the arc reactor such a contrast to his hot skin. “And responsive.” Tony added, chuckling slightly, and Peter gave a hiss. 

“Shut up.” he snapped, letting Tony suck at his throat, right where his pulse was hammering. Tony gave a laugh and flipped them over, pressing him down into the mattress with his hips. His mouth moved from Peter’s neck to his collarbone, mouthing at it. Peter inhaled sharply, pulling at Tony’s shirt absently. 

“Yeah yeah okay, give me a second.” Tony breathed, and though his voice was steady, he was still breathless. He pulled back, standing, and he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it carelessly behind him. “Jarvis. Just. Lock the door and cut the security feed. Don’t let anyone in.” Tony added, fumbling over his words as his eyes raked Peter, spread out for him, his cock making a tent in his boxers. At the order, Peter’s heart gave a jump. 

“Are we--” Peter stammered, and Tony reached down and lifted him so that he was more centered in his bed, cutting him off. “Tony-” Peter tried again, but Tony buried his face in the crook of Peter’s neck, biting gently. 

“Anything you want sweetheart.” Tony muttered, kissing and biting his way up Peter’s neck to his jaw. “Or nothing at all. I’m just as good kissing you.” he added, biting Peter’s earlobe, making him arch his back into Tony. Peter’s hands were roaming Tony’s olive skin, touching the soft and scarred flesh. It was smooth, hairless, and for whatever reason, Peter liked that a little too much. “Just tell me what you want.” Tony muttered against Peter’s lips, kissing him heatedly, his tongue sliding against Peter’s. 

Peter could only whimper and moan into Tony’s mouth, gripping at his shoulders and pulling him closer, so Tony pulled back. Peter gave a whine and licked his lips again, breathing hard.

“I want...fuck.” he paused to give Tony’s jaw an affectionate kiss. Tony snickered and Peter fell back onto his back. “I don’t know. More. I haven’t done things like this in a while.” Peter muttered, blushing hard from embarrassment. Tony chuckled, turning Peter’s jaw so he was looking up at him. He leaned down and kissed Peter slowly, thoroughly. Peter moaned softly into the kiss, snaking his arms around Tony and sliding one into his hair. 

“Neither have I.” Tony replied gently, kissing down Peter’s neck and chest. Peter’s breathing caught in the back of his throat and he bit his tongue. He moved so that he was propper up on his elbows, watching Tony as he grabbed the waistband of Peter’s boxers and tugged them down, exposing him. 

The cool air hitting Peter’s cock made him groan, and he clutched at the sheets beneath him, working hard not to buck his hips. Tony gave a growl, sliding his tongue along the underside of his cock. Peter moaned, quickly covering his mouth with one hand. 

“Jarvis. Soundproof.” Tony called, busying himself with teasing Peter’s cock to the point where he was shamelessly leaking onto his stomach. 

“Already done, sir.” Jarvis responded, and Peter felt him grin against his cock. He moved so he could see what Tony was doing, and he watched as Tony looked him dead in the eyes, slipping the tip between his lips. Peter gasped, biting his tongue and clenching the sheets, but determined to keep watching. 

“Fuck. Tony.” Peter hissed, fighting himself on bucking further into Tony’s mouth. Tony smirked, moving off of Peter’s dick and licking his lips. 

“I haven’t even taken you all the way in.” Tony pointed out, running his tongue along Peter’s length again. Peter groaned, letting his head fall back. 

“Told you. Haven’t done this in a while.” he repeated through a clenched jaw. Tony grinned and leaned up to kiss Peter, wrapping one hand around his slick cock, stroking him slowly. Peter couldn’t help but buck into Tony’s hand, biting into the kiss without realizing. He bit down on Tony’s bottom lip, and that seemed to egg Tony on because he gave a growl and pushed into the kiss harder. 

“So good baby.” Tony growled, moving his hand painfully slowly. Peter whined and sat up a little bit, grabbing at Tony’s jeans. They were tight with strain against Tony’s erection, and it couldn’t be comfortable. Tony hummed and rolled over, releasing Peter’s cock and letting him unbutton his jeans. 

Peter moved so that he could slide out of his boxers, stepping out of them and settling himself on Tony’s thighs, low enough that he could still tug down his jeans while straddling him. Once he’d unbuttoned them, and pulled them down slightly, Peter let his jaw drop. 

One. Tony was wearing blood red silky looking boxers that fit in ways that should be criminal. Two. Tony was definitely above average, and there was a small damp spot at the tip of his cock. 

“You see something you like?” Tony teased, propping himself up on his elbows to watch Peter. Peter licked his lips, his mouth suddenly full of saliva, and he moved so that he could mouth at Tony’s erection through the silk boxers. They were so thin that it was almost as if they weren’t there. 

“Someone.” Peter corrected, licking the damp spot and smiling at the salty sweet taste of precum. Tony let his head fall back and he gave a guttural moan from the back of his throat, a sound that made Peter’s cock twitch again. He slipped his fingertips below the waistband of the boxers and pulled them down Tony’s thighs, tugging his jeans the rest of the way off too. He quickly made his way back to Tony’s hard on and grasped it, drooling at the sight of it. 

“God, kid.” Tony choked out as Peter licked at a bead of precum resting at the tip. Peter hummed and took the first inch or two into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue. Every time he went down, he took a little more in, until Tony had one hand clutching his curls and was cursing under his breath.

Peter pulled up for air, his face a complete mess, saliva and precum smeared across his lips and chin. He gave Tony an open mouthed smile, licking his lips. Tony, his hand still in his hair, bit his bottom lip and gave a growl. He pulled Peter back onto his lap by his hair, which only made Peter harder, if possible, and kissed him messily. 

“Get onto your stomach. Put a pillow under your hips--no nevermind I’ll do that.” Tony ordered, biting Peter’s earlobe. Peter nodded, too dazed to really think, and did as he was told, laying on his stomach. Tony pulled his hips up, sliding a pillow beneath him so that his ass was elevated from the rest of his body. “Fuck. You’re so pretty.” Tony groaned, smacking Peter’s ass gently so that it bounced. He grabbed Peter’s ass, mouthing at the sensitive skin, touching everywhere except Peter’s hole. 

“T-Tony, shit.” Peter hissed, gripping the blankets. Tony smiled against his ass cheek, his stubble scratching Peter’s skin in the best way possible. Then Peter stopped being able to speak or think. Tony’s tongue was prodding at his hole, wet and hot, and Peter let out a whine, burying his face in the bed. 

It was several moments of Tony’s face buried in Peter’s ass, licking and biting roughly and gently at the same time, edging Peter closer and closer to the brink of orgasm, when something else entirely happened. Tony slid a finger inside of him, and he was throwing his head back and biting his tongue in an effort to keep silent. 

“You’re so hot baby.” Tony hissed, pressing his hips against Peter’s ass as he fingered him, sliding in and out slowly, teasing him. Peter could feel Tony’s still slightly slick cock pressed against his left ass cheek and he realized with a sudden desperation how badly he wanted Tony to fuck him. He added another finger, and now the burning pain came, but Peter loved it. He moaned into the bed, rocking his hips to meet Tony’s fingers. Tony added a third after stretching him, curling inside of him and prepping him. 

“M-more. Please.” Peter pleaded, desperate for Tony’s cock. Tony grinned and leaned over, kissing Peter’s shoulder. He pressed the tip of his leaking cock against Peter’s entrance, teasing the idea. 

“You want this?” Tony asked huskily, and Peter nodded, pushing his hips back to try and take Tony all the way in. “I need lube for that. I don’t wanna hurt you.” Tony muttered, lifting Peter like he weighed nothing and flipping him onto his back. Peter gestured to his bedside table wordlessly, licking his lips. The loss of Tony’s fingers had left him feeling open and exposed and he really wanted Tony. 

Tony laughed when he opened the top drawer of Peter’s bedside table, holding up a rather large dildo that was coloured gold. Peter waved his hand dismissively, and Tony shook his head, chuckling as he popped open the cap of his bottle of lube. 

Tony’s fingers returned, cool and slick, making Peter’s hole feel much slippery-er than normal. 

“You’re sure, kid?” Tony asked, breathless. Peter shot him a look and propped himself up on his elbows. 

“Yes. Please. And is now the time to call me kid?” he muttered, leaning up and kissing Tony heavily. Tony gave a soft groan and fell onto Peter, kissing him and sliding his legs around Tony’s waist.

Tony pressed his cock against Peter’s hole, this time, the tip sliding in, making Peter whimper. Tony didn’t stop, slowly pushing in until he bottomed out, his head on Peter’s chest, his breathing coming in short bursts. Peter was hardly able to breathe, his arms around Tony, adjusting to the way he felt inside of him. He was so big and Peter was so full. 

“You okay sweetheart?” Tony asked under his breath, touching Peter’s cheek and jaw fondly, kissing him gently. Peter hummed, nodding. 

“More than. You can move.” Peter whispered, and Tony nodded, his forehead against Peter’s. He slowly moved out, and Peter whined, and then he pushed back in, slowly. Peter clenched his jaw. Tony kissed his chin, and Peter inhaled sharply. “Keep going. I’m good.” he urged gently, and Tony looked like he was about to protest, but he dipped his head to kiss at Peter’s chest, and he moved again. 

Slowly, he began to move faster, remaining gentle of course, rocking his hips into Peter’s. Peter gave small moans and gasps when Tony brushed that spot, angling his body so that Tony hit it every thrust. Tony’s arms were wrapped around Peter, holding him close, and Peter was the same, kissing at Tony’s shoulder and jaw. 

“Peter...fuck.” Tony gasped, his face buried in the crook of Peter’s neck. “Can I--god--inside you?” he asked, and Peter nodded, unable to speak. He was close too. Tony gave a strangled cry and the sound alone would have sent Peter over the edge if he hadn’t been getting fucked. He whimpered Tony’s name and came harder than he had in a long time, and Tony was shaking just as much as he was. 

There was a sticky mess between their chests, and Tony wasn’t moving away from him. Instead, Tony kissed Peter breathlessly, holding him close. 

They kissed for a while before Tony moved off of Peter, laying on his back and sliding out of Peter. Peter gave a whine at that, but remained still, only tilting his head to look at Tony who was looking at him. 

“You’re...good.” Peter whispered, blushing, and Tony laughed, and it really reached his eyes, filling them up with joy and amusement. Peter smiled. 

“Shut up. Come on. We should shower.” Tony muttered, grinning and getting to his feet. He reached over, scooping Peter up and carrying him to his bathroom. 

_

Something woke Peter up, and he sat up quickly but gently, as not to wake Tony, who already had trouble sleeping. He wasn’t wearing much, just his boxers, which aren’t exactly much compared to Tony’s, but he’d never had reason to have expensive underwear.

He slid out of bed, pushing the blankets off of his sweaty body, pushing his hair out of his face. Damned curls. He looked out at the window that was one of Tony’s walls and watched as traffic, a million miles below them, still trudged on, even at--he glanced back at the clock. 4 am on the dot. He turned back to the glass wall, walking up to it, crossing his arms and watching the city, still aglow. 

He’d always loved a view like this. He’d climb up onto roofs when everyone was asleep, and he’d take out his old camera that barely worked and take pictures that he’d never be able to print. The camera had been stolen along with the rest of his belongings just a couple nights before he went to the event where he met Tony. He’d cried about it on a roof in the middle of Queens, sobbing quietly at the loss of his one friend. 

Now felt different. He was standing in a penthouse that he’d never be able to afford, but he was sort of dating Tony Stark, which meant that he could afford things. He could finally afford to have desires. He looked back at Tony, watching his chest rise and fall. They’d fallen asleep pressed together, just talking about whatever was on their minds, and sometime during the night, Tony had rolled over, onto his stomach, sprawled out. Peter smiled. 

He’d snuck into Tony’s room after he was sure everyone was asleep, or at least occupied. Tony had welcomed him, draining a glass of whiskey, and Peter really hadn’t liked seeing him drink. 

“You shouldn’t drink like that.” he’d said bitterly. Tony had looked at his empty glass, sighed, and thrown it against the wall. They’d then proceeded to flush all of Tony’s alcohol down the drain, save a few rare bottles that Tony promised not to touch. Peter had been stunned at Tony’s reaction and willingness to get rid of it. They’d slept together once and yet...well. He’d expected Tony to say something about crossing the line. 

A shiver washed over Peter, and he gripped his arms closer to his body. What had woken him up? Usually it was if someone was in danger, or he was in danger, but Tony was fine. He was fine. He swallowed thickly, remembering how only a few days ago that his throat had been burning with acid. 

Turned out that the attack had come from AIM, which was basically just as bad as HYDRA and Loki had almost gone insane with rage, because someone had hurt Peter. Peter had calmed Loki down, distracting him from his anger by calling him and Thor ‘dad’, which if Peter was honest, was really nice for him too. 

Now he called Thor and Loki dad all the time. Tony had laughed, initially, until Peter reminded him softly that eventually, they would have to tell Loki and Thor about them sleeping together, along with the rest of the team. 

Peter didn’t even know what they were. He snuck into Tony’s room. They kissed quite a bit when no one was around, but had only had sex once. Peter had treated Tony to a messy and perfect blowjob in his lab the other day to coax him into getting some sleep, but that was about it. 

Peter couldn’t be happier. 

“Jarvis...is everyone alright?” he whispered, knowing that Jarvis would hear him and respond in the same volume. Even if he was just an AI, he seemed to value the times when Tony was sleeping. If anything, anything was off, he’d slip out of the bedroom and go check on everything. 

“Everyone is perfectly fine and safe, Mr Parker.” Jarvis replied, his voice very quiet, quiet enough that only Peter would hear. Peter hummed. 

Maybe he just couldn’t sleep. He didn’t feel tired at all. He rubbed his arms softly, warming himself momentarily, eyes still locked outside. 

He had expected Tony to be an asshole. He had expected everyone to be right about Tony, saying that he was selfish and narcissistic and a complete asshole. He really hadn’t expected Tony to seem interested in who he was. He hadn’t expected Tony to be interested at all.

“Peter. Peter?” Tony’s voice was startled and sharp, and Peter spun around, watching Tony jump up and scan the room. His eyes locked with Peter’s and he immediately relaxed. He sank onto his knees, sitting on the bed, only wearing his boxers. Black this time. Peter walked over, crawling over the bed and touching Tony’s thigh.  
“I just woke up. I’m not sure why.” Peter murmured. “I didn’t want to wake you.” he added, and Tony nodded, rubbing his eyes and yawning, messing with his hair. He fell back into bed, landing on his side, groaning. The arc reactor glowed softly and Peter reached out and traced it. Tony flinched and Peter retracted his hand. 

“Sorry.” Tony grunted, burying his face into his pillow. Peter hummed and shook his head. 

“No, I’m sorry. I should have asked.” Peter replied and laid himself out beside Tony, facing him. “Are you okay?” he whispered, and Tony moved his face so that one striking brown eye was locked with Peter’s. It was full of uncertainty and anxiety. 

“Nah. Not really.” he muttered, voice muffled by the pillow. Peter’s heart gave a painful tug, and Tony sighed, moving again so his entire face was showing. “You make it better though. I just have shitty nightmares. So--”

“My being out of bed unexpectedly just gave you a bit of a scare. Ah.” Peter interrupted, and Tony nodded, licking his lips. Peter smiled softly, and leaned forwards, pressing a kiss to Tony’s nose. “Well. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” he mumbled, closing his eyes. Tony snorted. 

“Yeah, it’s only a matter of time. I always fail everyone eventually.” he growled, rolling over so that his back was turned to Peter, making Peter’s gut churn with anguish. He sat up, crossed his legs, and reached out, touching Tony’s shoulder. 

It made sense that he was in a sour mood. He hadn’t had a drink in 3 days. He was usually half buzzed. 

“That’s not true. You haven’t failed everyone.” Peter soothed, and Tony sat up sharply, shrugging Peter off. 

“What do you know?” he hissed, and he stood, grabbing his shirt and his sweats. Peter swallowed back tears that threatened to fall, and watched as Tony left the bedroom without another word. 

_

The roof was cool with a soft breeze from the south, and Tony sat, swinging his legs over the side of it. It was extremely high up, but heights never bothered Tony. If anything, it just gave him an adrenaline rush that distracted him from what was going on inside his head. 

It was around 5 now, and the sun was starting to peek up around the horizon, and Tony watched it rise slowly. He was in his AC/DC tee shirt, and his sweats that were stained with engine oil and grease. His hair was streaked with the oil and gasoline, mainly because he didn’t give a shit if his hands were dirty. His hair got in his way sometimes. 

He could hear traffic from below, but distantly. Honking. Tires squealing. Police sirens even further away. It was a relief to know that he wasn’t responsible for taking care of all of humanity’s issues. Crime wasn't his problem. The world threatening to come to an end? Yeah, that was his deal. 

Peter dealt with crimes on the streets though. He took care of the little issues, and he had yet to help out with the huge ones. 

Thinking about Peter made Tony’s gut clench, and he closed his eyes softly. He hadn’t meant to come off as an asshole. He hadn’t meant to be an asshole. But that was how he was when all of a sudden he didn’t want anyone close.

His gaze drops down to his own chest, the arc reactor glowing softly, persistently. He glared at it, lifted his shirt and grasped it in his hand. 

“I wouldn’t do that sir.” Jarvis’s voice came out of his cellphone. He forgot that he even brought it up with him. He ignored Jarvis and clicks it out of place, popping it from the socket. Immediately, he groaned in pain, shoulders sagging with his lack of strength. “Sir, if you keep that out of your chest for more than two minutes--” Jarvis urged, and Tony growled. 

“I know, J. Leave it.” he snapped, gritting his teeth. He slowly leaned back, lying on the roof. His heart was beating fast, and it was painful, as if he could feel the shrapnel moving towards his heart, slowly, tauntingly. His arc reactor, clenched in his fist, was no longer glowing. 

“Tony!” Peter cried, and Tony absently looked behind him, rolling onto his shoulder to make eye contact with the kid. Peter dropped to his side, grabbing the arc reactor from his limp hand and literally tearing Tony’s shirt from his body. His eyes were full of fear and anxiety, but he was calmer than Tony had expected. 

The arc reactor clicked back into place, and Tony gasped, his strength returning like a shot of heroin. 

“Idiot.” Peter growled, turning away from Tony and getting to his feet. “What were you thinking?! More than two minutes without that in your chest and you’d be dying!” he shouted, eyes furious. Tony sat up, running his fingers through his hair. “Do you have a deathwish I don’t know about? Some suicidal tendencies that I just missed?!” Peter bellowed, and Tony slowly got to his feet. His heart gave a lurch when he saw that Peter’s blue eyes were swimming with tears. 

“Peter--” Tony began, stepping towards Peter. Peter stepped back for every step forward, and Tony stopped moving altogether after a couple tries. 

“I do one wrong thing, and you’re up here killing yourself?!” Peter cried, and Tony swallowed. He wanted to tell Peter that it wasn’t his fault, that his being an asshole had nothing to do with him. Suddenly, Peter marched up to Tony and smacked his chest with his fist, gently, but firmly enough to make a statement. “You stupid old man!” he spat, and Tony reached up carefully, his fingers brushing Peter’s arms. To his relief, Peter didn’t move away. 

“I’m sorry.” Tony whispered, carefully guiding Peter closer to his body. Peter gave him a hurt look, but moved closer nonetheless, tears slipping down his cheeks slowly. Tony’s hands slid up his arms, to his shoulders, until he was holding Peter’s face in his hands tenderly. His cheeks were wet and warm, and his eyes closed gently more tears slipping out. “I’m not good at this. I’ve never been good at this.” Tony muttered, leaning forwards and pressing his lips to Peter’s forehead. Peter sniffed. 

“I’m sorry too. You aren’t an old man.” he mumbled and Tony grinned despite himself. 

“I’m 44 years old.” he whispered. “That’s kind of old.” Peter snorted and stepped back from Tony, wiping his eyes and cheeks. Tony absently wiped his hands on his stained sweats, Peter’s tears warm on his palms. 

“You aren’t old. Besides, isn’t the arc reactor supposed to make you live a whole lot longer?” he asked, still sniffling. Tony inhaled slowly, crossing his arms and looking back out at the city. 

“Yeah. But Peter…” he returned his gaze to Peter’s, which was still watery. “I...you...there isn’t much of a future with me.” he muttered, closing his eyes so that he would be spared from Peter’s expression. 

Silence pressed against his ears, apart from the distant noises of the city below. 

“You can’t push me away, Tony.” Peter’s voice was flat and cold, and it startled Tony into opening his eyes and looking at Peter. His eyes were narrow and dark, and Tony swallowed, still firm on his decision. “Maybe everyone else lets you get away with it but not me. That isn’t happening now, and it won’t happen in thirty years.” Peer continued, and Tony dropped his arms to his sides.

“That's the thing. I don’t even know if I have thirty years. This line of work--” Tony began through a clenched jaw.

“This line of work pushes me to enjoy what I have before I lose it.” Peter interrupted sharply. 

“You haven’t even fought a world threat yet, kid.” Tony pointed out, and Peter raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms. 

“Don’t do this. Don’t make me lose everything all over again.” he hissed, but underneath the chill of his tone, there was a pleading vulnerability. Tony looked away.

“Don’t play that fucking card on me.” he growled, starting to feel angry. “I’m trying to protect you from further pain.” Peter didn’t say anything. 

“You don’t have to protect me. I can protect myself.” he finally argued. Tony looked back at him sharply. 

“Of course I have to protect you. I l-” he cut himself off. No. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. He didn’t. 

...did he?

Peter’s eyes widened comically. His arms slid to his sides and he stepped forwards. Tony tensed. 

Less than a month. It was less than a month. Less than a week after fucking him. It was too soon. He was too much, too intense. 

“You…” Peter whispered, still moving closer. Tony shook his head, stepping backwards. 

“I’ll only hurt you.” he tried lamely, desperate to ignore what he’d almost said, what Peter had pieced together in his head. Peter shook his head slowly. 

“You love me.” he finally said, and Tony swallowed hard. His cheeks felt hotter than usual, and his heartbeat was definitely fast. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t say anything. He’d either deny it or confirm it and both were equally bad. 

“Kid--”

“Lose the name. We’ve had sex, Tony.” Peter muttered, drawing nearer and nearer. Tony was still stumbling blindly backwards, maybe stupidly, but this was overwhelming. “Do you really love me?” Peter asked, and Tony swallowed. 

“Peter--I didn’t mean to--” he was stammering, fumbling over his words. Full sentences were a dream now. Peter shook his head, moving faster. 

“But you did. You almost said it. I want to know if you’re telling the truth.” Peter persisted, and Tony stole a glance over his shoulder. The edge was close. Either walk over it or be close to Peter.

Why was being close to Peter so terrifying?

“I…” he trailed off, and without really realizing, he stumbled over the edge of the roof. He gasped, but the sound was lost in Peter’s shouts. 

Something grabbed onto his shirt and with a violent lurch, he was tossed back up onto the roof, landing in Peter’s outstretched arms. 

“Tony…” Peter breathed, lowering them both to the roof’s surface, holding Tony close, his nose in Tony’s neck. “I love you too.” Tony’s heart stopped.

The world stopped. Everything came to a standstill. The city’s obnoxious noises fell silent. All he could hear was Peter’s soft breathing and his steady heartbeat. 

Peter loved him. 

He let out a relieved sigh and slumped in Peter’s arms. 

“Yeah okay. I love you.” Tony managed, voice weak. 

They’d be okay. 

end.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I loved writing this.
> 
> Let me know if you guys want a sequel! I've got nothing to do so...
> 
> Thank you! Hope you're all safe <3 <3


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